#when you have zero fucking power over yourself

[peppermint-rat]

Sometimes I just remember that my brother, who professionally abuses incarcerated people, who now has two kids, openly called himself the "dominant male" of the house and thought that our dog being scared of going near him meant he was the alpha, when really he just felt the need to prove what a big man he was by traumatizing him when he was a helpless puppy and scarring him for life

Our dog who was an american eskimo, basically a white fluffball with a permanent smile. His relationship with that creature could not make sense if it wasn't scared of him

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of blowjob, etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

wc: 1709

a/n: the comeback of loser!jk<3

masterlist

"we should- mhph!," he gasped when you interrupted him with yet another kiss, attempting to speak again when your lips barely disconnected, "we should stu-" unfortunately for him, your lips did not stray too far.

you had no interest in holding any type of conversation right now. not when the pretty nerd was alone in your room for the third time this week.

surprisingly, despite your lack of ability to pay attention while jungkook was over at your place, your grades had still gone up. on the down side, this small improvement proved to be enough for your horny brain to make the executive decision that it'd be a waste to spend any more time studying when you could be playing with your pretty boy toy instead.

jungkook never had any complaints. even on the days you did study, you'd bid him goodbye by sitting on his cock and kissing up and down the length of his neck. he always left quite satisfied, though also dizzy with desire.

the sudden addiction you had with the boy couldn't have been helped. it was impossible for you to understand how he didnt have all the girls on campus trailing after him. he was clearly handsome, just incredibly shy. his shyness was so severe, he had trouble holding eye contact with anyone who spoke to him, only ever responding in incomprehensible stammers of nonsensical sentences.

you were more than fine to work with this. you knew it'd only take a while for him to warm up to you, and you were happy to patiently wait. the two of you sometimes conversed, getting to know each other past the math and the sex. he had already warmed up to you quite a bit, able to push his shyness aside for you. you'd break all that down any time you removed your shirt and propositioned yourself to him, but that was just to be expected.

as of now, your midterms were over and you felt no need to study for regular assignments despite jungkook's insistence. this meant you had all the time in the world to rearrange your tutoring sessions to fuck him instead. even as he attempted to form a single sentence, your tongue would find its way to his mouth, interrupting any thought that might break you away from his touch.

"i ... we're supposed to study at least a bit," he reminded you with a breathless tone as your lips went to his neck.

"don't wanna, baby. wanna fuck you instead. don't you want that too?", you whispered when you made your way to his ear, nibbling at it suggestively.

nodding feverishly, his eyes began fluttering shut, hands lamely digging into your hips like they usually did, "if- if you're sure."

you chuckled at his statement. you never had any second thoughts about fucking jungkook. he was a pretty nerd and former virgin whom you had the power to mold into the perfect boy for you. how could you ever pass out such an opportunity?

"i'm sure, pretty," you reassured as your hands went to pull up his shirt, yours joining soon after.

now sitting on his lap, top halves nude, you got up before his eyes could zero in on your breasts, throwing off your pants and helping him out of his own. unlike other times, you did not sit back down on his lap, instead opting to sit on the bed next to him, letting yourself fall back as your legs hung off the side of the bed.

looking up at him, you gestured at him to get off the bed with a quick flick of your eyes. the way he quickly understood and went to kneel between your legs made you chuckle. he was such a smart boy.

to this day, the pretty boy had never eaten you out. the extent of your sexual relationship only went as far as penetrative sex thus far. no oral had been involved for some reason – likely due to your need to jump him every time you saw him.

what you wanted most today was to claim your high on his tongue. you needed the pretty boy between your legs, struggling to lick into your cunt and fumbling to find your clit. you knew that with some guidance you'd easily get his skills at oral perfectly tailored to your tastes. that was the nicest part of having a pretty and untouched boy such as jungkook – you could teach him everything just the way you liked it.

staring up at you with his gigantic doe eyes, his brows furrowed in worry, likely unsure of what to do next whilst simultaneously intimidated by such a suggestive position. your fingers went to his chin, lifting up his face whilst yours lowered to almost meet in a kiss. a pretty whine was felt against your lips when you moved away just before your lips could connect.

"pretty?"

"yes?", a gulp accompanied his inquiry.

"will you be good and lick me?"

a groan left his lips before he began nodding dumbly, practically whining as he confirmed his enthusiasm.

"please ...", he whimpered when you created a larger gap between you, grabbing onto his hair and pushing his face into your bare cunt.

opening your legs wider, you led the pretty boy almost all the way to your pussy, stopping right before letting his lips touch your own.

"tongue out, baby," you instructed.

wordlessly, he followed your instructions as his hands went up to your thighs for support. he gave you a decided nod before leaning in and shyly licking into your cunt. groaning against you, he licked experimentally once, twice, thrice – enough times for his resolve to break and for his shyness to be replaced by want.

your hands continued to guide him by his hair, grinding into his mouth in sync with the movement of his lips. it was easy to fall into a trance while the desperate boy ate at you. it was as if he'd had prior practice, except you knew that wasn't the case. jungkook was clearly just letting his hunger take over, leading to an ethereal feeling you knew only jungkook could give you.

"kookie ... oh, fuck," you cried out, fingers digging harshly into his hair.

he reacted accordingly, groaning at both your voice and the feeling of his hair getting pulled at. his hips were also uncontrollable as they ground into the side of the bed, pathetically humping in hopes of some stimulation.

as he ate at you with an unprecedented desperation, he let out the prettiest whimpers and pleas against your cunt, leaving you lightheaded at how needy he was for you.

"it's so good ... fuck, so good. thank you- thank you, oh, fuck ...."

"tastes so fucking good, oh god ...."

"it's for me? fuck, tell me it's mine. t-tell me it's all for me, please ..."

"oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you ..."

encouraging him, you claimed him as yours, telling him how good he was and how you'd give him anything he wanted. he cried even more at this, continuing to thank you for granting him access to your cunt. you knew he meant this in both a sexual and emotional way, which only made you feel even dizzier.

a few minutes into jungkook sloppily making out with your cunt, you pulled him away a bit (despite his resistance), making him look up at you.

under you, you found foggy glasses, messy hair, and half his face covered in your wetness. and even with all that, he looked like the prettiest thing you'd ever had between your legs. he whined the moment you separated him, attempting to reconnect his lips with your cunt, but you remained stubborn.

"baby, you're doing so good for me," you wiped a bit at his lips, though he misinterpreted your intentions, instead taking your fingers into his mouth and suckling.

he was a natural at being a needy mess.

"need you to play with my clit, though, pretty. c'mere, like this. let me show you ..."

with your fingers, you showed him where he'd find your clit, instructing him to stick out his tongue for you again and kitten-lick at it. he went the extra mile and began suckling at it after just a few moments, making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

going back and forth between licking at you and suckling at your clit, his intensity only increased the more you cried out for him, beginning to hump against his face with zero finesse. the squeaks of the bed could be heard as he himself bumped his cock against it, whimpering into your cunt out of neediness.

"g-gonna make me cum, kookie ... oh, fuck, i- i'm gonna cum, pretty. eat it f-for me? p-please?"

you hadn't planned on becoming so needy for him, but you also hadn't planned for him to be such a quick learner. he simply nodded into your cunt, speeding up his movements as he grumbled against your lips, clearly growing desperate to make you reach your high.

this was easily one of the most intense, neediest orgasms you'd ever had. your voice reached a pitch it never had before as you shamelessly used jungkook's face to get off. at some point his nose began nudging against your clit, almost causing you to black out in pleasure. by the end of it you had been singlehandedly doing all the work whilst jungkook let you guide his face however you wanted.

"fuck ... kookie," you breathed once your high subsided, "c'mere, baby."

climbing up the bed, he hovered over you, shy in initiating a kiss but putting his all into it the moment he realized how into it you were, suckling your juices out of his tongue and moaning into his mouth.

"was ... was it good?", he murmured into your neck once your lips had disconnected.

"it was so good, baby. you're such a quick learner," you caressed his back reassuringly, ignoring the hardness poking against you for a moment.

"want me to try it on you?" you asked, chuckling when he suddenly stilled.

"o-oh ... you want to?"

"lay on the bed, kookie. let me show how good it feels," you grinned at him, knowing you were about to blow his mind yet again.

[allurilove]

Yandere Professor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: sweet talking, breath play, age gap, fucking in his classroom, pretty gender neutral, manipulation, abuse of power, obsessed professor.

*Everyone is of age, and older than eighteen. He is referred to as “your professor” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: He’s your strict professor, and you’re trying to get a better grade. You’ve never seen him be swayed by a student before, perhaps you would be the first.

Your grade has tanked by a lot. You had an unreasonable professor, the man was picky, and on your last test it was covered in corrections by that damn red pen of his.

You began to wonder what it would take for him to give you an A.

You wouldn’t consider yourself to be a bad student. In fact, this is the first time you have been close to failing. It was honestly your fault, you’ve read the reviews on this teacher and still chose to take the class anyways. You just wanted to challenge yourself.

You gawk at the paper he hands back to you. Your eye twitched at the big fat zero out of a hundred, and that might’ve been impressive just in itself. Not even one question right. You narrow your eyes at the professor who was still handing out the quiz back to the students.

When class ended, you slowly packed up your things, and you kept tabs on how many students were still left in the classroom. When the last student left, you got up from your seat, and stormed your way over to the professor.

Any sliver of dignity you had was gone. Your cheeks still flushed when he announced the lowest score to the whole class. You pushed that memory aside, and you crossed your arms as you stood in front of his desk.

“I don’t have time for this.” Your professor sighed, and his brows furrowed as he loosened up his tie.

He knew why you were coming over to talk to him. This was the worst grade you have gotten in his class. And really, he’s not surprised. In his opinion you have been slacking off. Your body bristles at his words, his eyes are cold and unforgiving.

Maybe if you weren’t a rash individual, you would’ve seen that his comments on your test was totally fake. Every circle and outline with a tiny scribble on the side? That was his way of professing his love for you, and about fifty “I love you’s.” were on the paper, but he knew you wouldn’t read them.

He did know that the grade would haunt you. He did know that it would make you desperate enough to come to him during office hours.

Your professor watched you with amusement as you crawled onto his lap, and you guiding his hands onto your body. He could already feel his dick stirring in his pants.

“This is hardly appropriate.” He said in a disapproving tone, though his hands do cup at your chest.

His thumb circles around your nipple, and the rest of his fingers gently squeeze at opportunity you have given to him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly in his lap.

It felt like you were trying to chip away at his resolve, his face was stern, and he listens to you rant on about the grade he gave you. Though, him letting you sit on his lap, let you subtly grind on his growing erection. With every whine and pout, you tried to play with his heart strings.

Your professor sighed, shook his head, and tried to pretend that there was no way you could make up for it. His hand slowly, and quietly, opening his drawer to grab for a condom.

It didn’t take long for him to agree when you took off his glasses, your lips capturing his in a searing kiss. He followed your lead, letting you feel like you were in control.

His hands groping at your ass and he puts you onto his desk, his body moving his way in between your legs. You wore something easy to slip off, your shorts and underwear now down to your ankles. He caressed your inner thighs, his lips now trailing down to your neck.

Your professor licked and sucked at your skin, his teeth gently nibbling at you, and he made sure to leave marks.

“You can be quite cute like this…” The older man mumbles, “…so pretty, so perfect.” he took a deep inhale as his nose was buried into your neck.

“Oh shit.” Your professor growled, his belt falling to the floor and his pants were pulled down roughly.

Before you knew it, he ripped open the condom wrapper and he slid it on his cock. He spit on his hand for lube, and gave his member a few pumps. He aligned his tip against your warmth.

His hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing the side of it, as his hips began to rock itself. His dick hit the deepest part of you, he went slow, and he was determined to find your sweet spot.

“Don’t be upset…” He cooed, and he kissed you in between his words. “I had to give you a zero.”

“You weren’t understanding my hints.”

He needed you. He wanted to be with you the moment you stepped inside his room, or maybe it was when he found out you signed up for his class. Your name was interesting to him, your looks, and the way you carried yourself got him hooked.

He took a couple points off on your first test, just to see what you would do. You certainly didn’t deserve it, and he thought you would’ve challenged him on it, or come talk to him. Or even offer your body to him sooner.

He did it over and over again, until you were on the verge of receiving an F. He was getting frustrated, and you were a damn tease.

He was never like this before, and if you exposed him, he could lose his job. But maybe then he could be with you in public? He let out a deep groan, his eyes rolling back as he was fucking you for his release.

Your professor didn’t realize that your face was turning pink, your nails scratching at his hands that were on your throat, and you were on the verge of cumming. You gasp as he finally let you breathe, his hands now on the desk behind you.

The room was filled with his vocalizations, his whimpers, his mumbles of how good you feel, and how much he needed this.

He even called you his baby, his good student, love, and when you finally came— his eyes were glued to the white substance dripping out of you.

That was when he knew you were going to be his. He was going to be the only one that could make you feel this way.

That day, you received the A you have been wanting. But you also indulged the man that’s been pining after you, and he never stopped.

Allure: Idk why, but i’ve been really active lately omg.

[pin-k-ink]

insubordination // narumi gen

tw ⇢ dub-con, lieutenant!reader, strong sexual tension, degradation/name calling, dirty talk, dry humping, nipple play, making out, power imbalance, pet names, groping, blowjob, breeding kink, creampie, squirting, slight exhibitionism but nobody actually sees anything, fingering, face fucking

wc ⇢ 4.3k

"Staring a little hard there, aren't we Captain?"

Gen's lips curved in a predatory smirk at your taunting lilt. His smoldering gaze didn't waver an inch from where it locked onto the swell of your breasts straining against the top half of your combat suit.

"Well, can you blame a guy for admiring the view?" he rumbled without a shred of shame, lazily prowling a circle around you. "Especially when my insolent little underling insists on parading those around so shamelessly..."

You bristled at his blatant insinuation, crossing your arms over your chest reflexively despite the way it accentuated your cleavage even more obscenely. Gen's blown pupils tracked the motion with raptor-like focus, tongue darting out to wet his full lips slowly.

"I'll thank you to stop eyeing me like a piece of meat, Captain Narumi," you bit out, even as heat flooded your cheeks.

Rather than looking chastised, your captain let loose a dark chuckle that seemed to reverberate against your skin in wicked promise. He came to a stop directly in your line of sight again, hips canting just enough for the material of his suit to stretch taut over the impressive bulge swiftly tenting there.

"And just how would you prefer me to look at you, sweetheart?" Gen purred, voice dripping simmering sin as he palmed himself openly. "Like someone who's been tormenting over the thought of you unwinding that stick up your ass for years? Desperate to finally get my mouth and hands all over those perfect fucking tits until you're completely ruined?"

An involuntary whimper rattled up from your constricted throat at his filthy confession. Despite yourself, you found your gaze zeroing in on the lewd glide of his palm dragging up the rigid shape of his concealed cock as if mesmerized.

Before you could summon any shred of wherewithal to protest, Gen rolled his hips upwards to meet his stroking hand in one salacious grind that utterly robbed you of breath. His blown pupils tracked your reaction with laser focus, that same arrogant smirk only widening across his handsome features.

"See something you like, babe?" he taunted in a velvety rumble. "Because I can promise the reality is even better than whatever dirty little fantasies you've been entertaining alone at night..."

With a sinuous roll of his shoulders, Gen shucked his jacket off in one smooth motion - every honey-toned ridge of chiseled muscle flexing in visceral definition. You couldn't tear your traitorous stare away even if ordered to at gunpoint. Not when it felt like he was searing every lush, feminine curve and dip with that piercing scarlet glower alone.

"It must get so hard having to sit through those meetings all wound up like this," he growled gutturally, running that greedy, assessing gaze over your rigid posture in dark approval. "Struggling to keep it together while imagining how my thick cock might feel stuffing that sweet little mouth of yours to the hilt..."

Your mewl of protest only seemed to embolden him further. Zipper pulled down to better display the taut, sculpted planes of his abdomen as he stalked in a prowling circle. Gen came up behind you like a panther finally closing in for the kill, plastering his scorching frame all along your backside with insistent pressure.

"Or maybe wondering how easily those pretty tits would spill over my palms," he husked directly into your ear, nosing aside the disheveled curtain of your hair. "So heavy and ripe for sucking while I split you apart on this thick dick...?"

His rough palm found the generous swell of one breast without preamble, squeezing and palming the ample weight with carnal appreciation as you jolted in his confining clutches. Gen wasted no time rolling your hardened nipple between calloused fingers in tight, pinching spirals that had you hastening to stifle a throaty wail of rapture.

"Is this how you want me admiring the view, lieutenant?" he growled against your nape, dragging a searing path of bruising suction down the column of your straining throat. "Or should we take this back to your quarters so I can give you the long, hard look over you've been aching for..."

With a merciless yank, he spun you around to face him fully - chest heaving and lips parted around shuddering pants. Gen made no effort to conceal the way his searing gaze dropped directly to your chest again, or how his wicked tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip as if chasing your sweet, musky essence already.

"Your move, pretty girl," he purred in rich provocation. "Just know that once I get those luscious tits in my mouth...I won't be stopping until you're an utterly broken, soaking mess beneath me. And you'll thank me for every second of it."

The naked promise driving his every smoldering word resonated straight down to the throbbing, slick heat blazing between your thighs with dizzying ardor. Narumi Gen was no mere arrogant blowhard in this moment...but instead an apex predator radiating undeniable, primordial intent to stake his full, merciless claim upon you at last.

And every fiber of your being positively burned to surrender yourself over to the ruinous inferno raging within those blown crimson depths utterly and without a shred of resistance left to muster.

Gen's palms bracketed your jaw with scorching insistence, forcing your widened gaze to remain locked on his as he drank in the flush staining your cheeks. You trembled violently under that crimson scrutiny, each ragged exhale fanning across his parted lips in tantalizing wisps.

"Look at you..." he rasped out in a tone all gravel and sin. "So perfectly primed just from a little harmless groping, sweetheart? Fuck, you must be feeling so achingly empty inside without my thick cock stretching you open properly..."

A strangled whine rattled up your constricted throat, fingers knotting in the front of his rumpled uniform as if to ground yourself against the rising tide of delirious need. Gen simply drank in the sight of you rapidly unraveling with dark, glittering approval - shifting his hips forward to prod the heavy ridge of his cock straining against his pants between your splayed thighs brazenly.

"I can feel how soaked you already are through these fucking pants," he snarled in evident rapture. "That gorgeous little cunt of yours dripping everywhere just craving to be stuffed full and pumped with my cum over and over..."

You keened brokenly at the vulgar promise underlying his words, nails scoring down the sleek musculature of his chest as he rolled his hips in a teasing grind. He hissed out a breath at the rake of blunt trails, only to latch back onto you with twice the bruising intensity.

"Yes...let me see just how deliciously ruined you can get before submitting fully."

With a leonine growl of possession, Gen crashed his mouth over yours in a searing, punishing slide of silken heat and tangling velvet. You melted helplessly against the unforgiving brand of his chest, whimpering as his questing tongue speared past your slick seam to lash against yours with blistering dominance.

His hands roamed in greedy, urgent paths along your trembling form - groping and palming every lush curve as if mapping the exquisite terrain by touch alone. You writhed wantonly into each rough caress, chasing that merciless friction as he ground his fat cock against your swiftly drenching pussy.

Something rapturous kindled behind your fluttering lids, burning molten and blinding in its intensity as Gen's artful plundering quickly unraveled your every remaining thread of propriety. Each swipe of his velvet muscle against yours, every rake of calluses over swollen flesh dragged you spiraling deeper into an abyss of utter carnal rapture with him as both plunderer and anchor.

White nova bursts exploded in your darkening periphery as Gen dragged his mouth from yours in a smoldering, filthy glide. Both of you were left gasping in harsh tandem, hearts thundering and musk swirling together in a heady, intoxicating swirl.

"Fuck..." He grated out with palpable relish, piercing rubies raking over your ravaged state hungrily. "You like getting devoured like the greedy little slut you are for me, don't you baby? Want nothing more than to get used as my personal cumdump so I can breed you thoroughly full and sloppy..."

A fractured moan punched free of your chest entirely beyond conscious control at his visceral words. Gen chuckled darkly in response, dragging your quivering form even more flush against the thrumming heat of his body with clear intent.

"Since you're being so openly desperate for this cock," he husked against the lush curves of your breasts peeping from your unzipped suit, "why don't you help me get nice and ready to slide right into that drenched little hole of yours, lieutenant? Show me how much you want my cum painting your insides in thick ropes..."

With a feral rumble that stole your breath entirely, Gen seized both your hands and guided them down to the prominent bulge tenting his fatigues shamelessly. Your fingertips danced over the searing brand of his cock, marveling at the sheer unyielding steel packed into those snug confines against your splayed palms.

"Go ahead," he cajoled in a heady rasp. "Grip me properly, just like you've been fantasizing about all those nights alone...show your Captain how good you are at servicing exactly what he needs..."

The last vestiges of your self-restraint burned away into smoldering embers at his commanding tone. Your grip tightened around the hefty swell of his dick, kneading and massaging the engorged length through his pants with unrestrained desire. Gen groaned low and guttural, thrusting up into your ministrations in a pornographic grind.

"Fuuuck yes, sweetheart. Just like that," he grunted as his broad palm clamped over the top of your head to drag you closer for a filthy, slanting kiss. "God, I bet you’re so fucking wet just from playing with my cock. My naughty little slut is going to have such a perfect, sopping cunt for me to sink right into, isn't she?"

His tongue curled along the seam of your lips, urging them apart to allow him full, ravenous plunder. Gen ravished the depths of your mouth with single-minded, devouring intensity, leaving no space for air to circulate around the smoldering sparks crackling between you both.

When he pulled back once more, your vision swam - dazed and unfocused - in his darkening crimson glare. He smirked in blatant satisfaction, licking the traces of you off his lips in a lingering, lewd swipe.

"Mmm...perfect," he murmured in rich approval. "Now why don't you put those pretty lips of yours to better use, hm? It's only fitting that my insubordinate officer should show proper deference to her captain..."

Before you could even summon a shred of wherewithal, Gen had shoved you down onto your knees with an iron grip. The sudden impact reverberated through your bones, only to be immediately eclipsed by the way his engorged cockhead pressed against your lips with blatant, unyielding command.

"C'mon," he growled impatiently, smearing a pearlescent streak of his precum across the seam of your mouth in a blatant, carnal marking. "I know you've been dying to have your captain's cock stuffing your face until you can't even breathe. Don't disappoint me now, lieutenant..."

With a ragged breath, you gave in to his dark demand. Your lips parted on a shuddering exhale, allowing Gen to glide his thick shaft past your puffy lips and straight to the back of your throat in a single, forceful plunge.

"Yesss," he hissed through clenched teeth, fingers clenching in the crown of your head as you began suckling around his girth eagerly. "That's it...just like that. God, I knew that smart mouth of yours would be so good for something other than being a royal pain in my ass..."

The velvety glide of his rigid cock sliding along your tongue had a mewl bubbling up your throat, only for Gen to choke it off entirely. He thrust in a shallow, experimental glide - watching with unbridled avarice as his shaft disappeared completely inside your mouth.

"Mmm...look at that. So fucking filthy," he groaned in obvious appreciation. "How much of me can you fit in there, hm?"

Without further preamble, he rutted forward in a sudden, forceful jerk. Your breath stuttered as the flared crown of his cockhead punched deep down your convulsing throat, choking off any protest. Gen stilled completely at the tight clench of your esophagus, savoring the way your walls milked him with desperation.

"Fuck," he grunted in evident rapture, eyes screwing shut at the overwhelming sensation. "Yeah, that's a good little slut. You want this, don't you? My filthy, insubordinate bitch of a lieutenant is gonna choke herself to death on her captain's cock and love every second of it. Isn't that right, baby?"

Your nails dug into the sculpted muscle of his thighs as if to anchor yourself against the dizzying tide of delirium, whimpering brokenly around his searing intrusion. The sheer filth spilling from his lips coupled with the molten steel stretching your mouth wide had you teetering dangerously close to a shattering precipice you had no hope of holding back.

"Ohhh, God, you really fucking do," he rasped out in a gravelly, carnal groan. "I can feel how much your cunt is weeping just from this, sweetheart. Go ahead, be a good girl and touch yourself for me...show me just how fucking desperate you are to have your Captain's load pumping straight into your womb..."

You shuddered at the lurid command, but were helpless to deny him. One hand snaked its way up your body to tug at the zipper of your combat suit, dragging it down all the way to your navel and allowing the generous swells of your breasts to spill out fully.

"Yessss," Gen hissed out in obvious delight, hips bucking forward into your mouth with a low, guttural rumble. "Touch yourself, lieutenant. Fuck, I want to see those perfect tits bouncing while you finger that soaking pussy."

You mewled brokenly at his dark demand, arching back to shove the suit further down your thighs. With your chest bared to the cool, recycled air, you dragged your trembling fingers down the plane of your abdomen to cup your soaked mound.

Gen's crimson gaze followed the motion with laser focus, pupils blowing so wide that only a thin ring of scarlet remained. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, teeth worrying at the lower one in an open display of his raw, animalistic desire.

"Good girl," he husked as you sank two digits deep into your sopping core, clenching and rolling them into the molten depths. "Fucking hell, look at you. Such a beautiful little cumslut for me, aren't you?"

A garbled wail rattled around his throbbing length as you drove your fingers harder and faster, curling and twisting them to graze along that sweet, electric spot that had pleasure spiraling ever tighter through your belly. Your vision blurred and swam, only to snap back into razor-sharp focus as Gen yanked his shaft from your mouth with a lewd, wet pop.

"Not yet," he snarled in obvious warning. "You come on this cock and only this cock, is that understood? I'm not even close to done with you yet, baby..."

Gen's hands wrapped around your biceps, hauling you upright and crushing you flush against his broad chest. With a rough grunt, he bent down and scooped you up over his shoulder - arm locking around your thighs as he began striding towards the door with single-minded purpose.

"C-Captain Narumi," you stuttered out in protest, struggling weakly against his iron grip. "W-wait, where are we going? You can't just carry me through the damn halls like this!"

A wicked chuckle vibrated through his chest as he paused mid-stride. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the scorching brand of his hand cupping your slickened, puffy mound.

"My quarters are closer," he rumbled directly into your ear, the velvety promise behind his words sending a shiver skittering down your spine. "And if anyone has an issue with me carrying my filthy lieutenant around, well...they can take it up with me and my gun."

Before you could even attempt to summon a protest, his fingers sank into your drenched folds with a lewd, vulgar squelch. You cried out in mingled shock and rapture, writhing against his grip as he began grinding those calloused pads in slow, taunting circles against your swollen clit.

"That's it, baby," Gen crooned with obvious relish, his other arm securing your thighs tighter around his broad shoulders. "You just keep riding my fingers like the good girl you are...I'm gonna have you nice and creamy for me by the time we get there."

True to his word, his pace didn't falter the entire trek to his quarters. Not even when you sobbed and whimpered as each step jostled his fingers deeper into your fluttering heat. Each brush and glide had your senses spiraling higher and higher, chasing the impending peak you'd been denied for so long now.

By the time Gen finally dumped you on his bed, you were a panting, shivering wreck - eyes blown and cheeks flushed in utter abandon. His answering smirk was nothing short of sin incarnate as he slowly began to unzip his anti-kaiju suit, the flexing muscles of his chest rippling with each torturous pull.

"You look so fucking perfect sprawled out for me like that," he growled, letting the garment fall to the floor with a dull thud. "So ready to be stuffed and used, hmm?"

A sharp squeal ripped from your throat as he fell upon you, tearing at the remaining fabric of your combat suit. He stripped it off your quivering frame with an ease borne of ruthless efficiency, leaving you bared to his molten, crimson glare in a heartbeat.

"Look at these," Gen snarled, burying his face between the plush mounds of your breasts. "Fuck, they're perfect. So fucking juicy and soft and all mine to play with however I want..."

He sealed his sinful mouth around the peak of one swollen nipple, sucking and biting hard enough to send a bolt of sizzling lightning shooting straight to your drenched folds. Your fingers knotted in his silky locks, nails scoring his scalp as you arched into his ravenous devouring.

He pulled back to lave a slow, tantalizing stripe over the puffy, reddened tip, only to fix his smoldering scarlet gaze directly on yours. Gen rolled his hips into the cradle of your splayed thighs, prodding his engorged shaft directly against your slick, pulsating heat.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited to fuck you into oblivion?" he rasped out, punctuating his dark oath with a shallow grind. "Every single day since we met, I've been imagining bending you over every surface and pumping my cum into that greedy little cunt of yours. And now I'm finally going to give us both exactly what we need..."

With a savage snarl, he seized both your wrists and pinned them above your head. His crimson glare never wavered from the way your breasts heaved and bounced in the wake of his rutting, the tip of his cock catching on your drenched slit with each lewd slide.

"Gen," you keened out in a shattered plea. "Please..."

He groaned gutturally, burying his face against the flushed valley between your breasts. Your hips bucked up against him, craving more than just the teasing friction he was allowing.

"What was that, lieutenant?" he purred in a rasp. "You're going to have to be clearer than that."

"For the love of-!" You broke off on a frustrated moan as he continued rocking his cockhead in torturously slow circles. "Fuck, stop playing and fuck me already, you arrogant jackass!"

Gen lifted his head just enough to flash a sinful, smug smirk at your wrecked state. Your heart stuttered wildly in its cage at the clear evidence of his control, coupled with the fact that he was finally about to fulfill the promise blazing in his crimson glare.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

A guttural groan spilled from his parted lips as he thrust his full, throbbing length inside you with a single, brutal shove. You arched beneath him in utter rapture, keening and clawing at his shoulders for purchase.

"That's it," he grated out through clenched teeth, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief. "Fuck, I knew that greedy cunt of yours would be tight and hot as hell, but fuck...!"

Each thick inch of his shaft dragged along your pulsating walls as he set a harsh, unforgiving pace - spearing and filling you in every possible way as if claiming the most sacred part of your body as his own. You couldn't do much beyond hanging on and mewling, fingers scrabbling desperately along the flexing muscle of his back as you were utterly consumed by the punishing glide.

"You like this, sweetheart? Being stretched wide open on my fat dick?" Gen snarled into your ear, hips snapping forward to drill the flared crown of his cockhead directly into your cervix. "Because I can tell you fucking love it. That perfect little cunt is dripping everywhere just from having me split you apart, baby..."

The searing coil wound tighter and tighter inside your belly, each pistoning plunge driving you closer to that shattering crescendo. Your breath came in ragged, broken pants, the room seeming to blur and spin around you as the inferno raging between you both only grew brighter and brighter.

Gen shifted, propping himself on one forearm as he hooked his free hand around the bend of one knee and forced it higher. Your eyes flew wide at the new angle, a wail spilling from your lips at the way his cock seemed to swell impossibly more - filling every possible inch of your fluttering depths until there was no room left for anything except him.

"God, that's the spot," he rasped, eyes screwing shut as he redoubled his efforts. "Take every inch of me, just like that...you're almost there, I can feel it."

"Gen, I'm-"

You choked off on a cry as his mouth latched back onto your nipple, tongue swirling and flicking as he suckled hungrily. Every nerve ending blazed with electricity, the molten heat building between your thighs rapidly threatening to burn you alive from within.

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna feel that perfect pussy gushing all over my cock while I pump you full of my load. C'mon, sweetheart...give it all to me..."

The final thread snapped, sending you careening over the edge in a blinding, white-hot flash. Your spine arched off the mattress, mouth falling open around a silent scream of bliss as you squirted in messy, torrential waves all over his shaft.

"That's it, ohhh, fuuuck," Gen snarled against your breast, teeth scraping the sensitive, puckered tip as he fucked you through the aftershocks. "Such a good little slut, squirting so pretty for her captain like that."

"G-gen, please!" you wailed, the overstimulation nearly driving you mad. "Please, I need-"

He pulled out entirely with a lewd, wet pop, flipping you onto your stomach and hauling you up onto your knees. With an iron grip, he jerked you back against him, lining the blunt head of his cock up with your weeping hole once more to plunge back inside with one harsh shove.

"This what you need, sweetheart?" he hissed in your ear, grinding the rigid planes of his abdomen directly into your ass as his balls slapped your clit with each rut. "Don’t worry, baby. Gonna give it to you. Gonna give you all the cum you can take and then some..."

His hands clamped down around your waist with bruising force, dragging you back to meet every merciless thrust. Gen pounded into you from behind without restraint, the lewd slap of skin on skin echoing throughout his quarters alongside your fractured cries and his low, animalistic grunts.

"Ah-! Fuuuuck," he groaned, burying his face against your nape and wrapping his arms around your midsection possessively. "Mm-yesss, gonna cum, baby. Where- tell me where you want it-!"

"Inside, please, oh God, don't stop-!"

His guttural roar rattled in your ears as his entire body went rigid behind you, the searing heat of his release spurting directly against your cervix and painting your womb in thick, ropy ribbons. You whimpered and squirmed at the sensation, his iron grip still holding you firmly in place until his cock had milked itself dry.

For several moments, neither of you moved or spoke, chests heaving in sync. Gradually, his hold loosened and allowed you to collapse face-first onto the mattress, completely drained and sated in the aftermath. Gen followed you down, covering the line of your spine with the solid plane of his chest as he buried his nose in your tangled hair.

"Baby," he rasped into your ear. "If I'd known just how fucking perfect you were going to be, I would've done this a lot sooner..."

A weak laugh bubbled up from your chest at his husked confession, reaching back blindly to card through his damp locks. He sighed contentedly, shifting to roll the two of you onto your sides and tucking you flush against his front.

"Mmm...you know," he murmured, trailing his fingers up and down the plane of your abdomen lazily, slipping right between your puffy folds to swipe over the sensitive pearl of your clit, "I’m still not quite done with you, sweetheart..."

"Gen, wait-!"

But before you could finish your protest, he was already bucking his hips into you again - this time from behind as his cock slipped into your thoroughly fucked cunt with a sinful, wet squelch.

"No more waiting," he growled into your ear, rolling the pad of his calloused finger around your clit with increasing pressure. "We have years to make up for, after all. And I'm going to use every single second of that time fucking the absolute hell out of this gorgeous little cunt."

[tired-biscuit]

hmmm thinking about bratty, shit disturbing omega reader telling alpha kiba 'ooo you wanna breed me so bad' during a petty argument when they're not even together and it resulting in him putting you in a non-con mating press.....

18+ MDNI, fem!omega!reader // cw: noncon, omegaverse, breeding, reader is in heat and kiba is MEAN about it.

wait, this is actually perfect; there’s just something about omegaverse and kiba that makes such a good combo every single time!

i’m thinking about him being your neighbour. he’s nice on the eyes but he’s also grouchy, not much of a talker, and always seems super tense whenever you bump into each other in the hallway or at the entrance leading into your apartment complex.

and when i say tense, i mean tense. your mailbox resides next to his, so if you by any chance come down to get mail at the same time as him, he’s clutching his bills with a white-knuckled grip and is storming right back upstairs and slamming his door shut with an unnecessarily loud thud before you’ve even finished sticking your key into the tiny lock.

while living so close to each other, you’ve tried being polite towards him on several occasions. have greeted him with a smile and a quick “morning!” or “hi!” even though all he did in response was grumble something under his breath and brush you right off. you even went as far as to ask him how his run went when he came back into the building drenched in sweat and with his cheeks flushed a pretty red one time, but to no avail. the face he pulled made him look like he was seconds away from telling you to fuck off.

all signs point to general dislike no matter what you do, so winning him over just for the sake of having a good relationship seems to be outright impossible. which is also a huge bummer because he lives right next door, and it’d be nice to have him on your side since it significantly lessens the chance of him nagging you when the music is a smidge too loud or whenever you have friends staying the night.

by the time several weeks had passed — hell, you’ve endured almost two months of this crap — and he was no closer to warming up to you, you’d given up. not only that, you also made sure to give him a taste of his own medicine: you got rid of the sweet girl attitude and instead started treating him the same way he treated you.

rudely.

so it’s no wonder that he appears to be absolutely fucking pissed when he shows up at your doorstep one day when you’re in the middle of suffering through one of your worst heats yet, banging on your door with an impatient fist and sporting the pushiest demeanor you’ve ever seen.

when you finally force yourself to get off the couch and open the door, the first thing you realise is that he’s so big that he fills the entire entrance. all muscle and raw, brutal power. you’ve never gotten the chance to see him this upclose.

the glare in his dark brown eyes is harsh as he immediately makes eye contact with you, and his lips press into a firm line. there’s a constant flutter of a muscle in his right cheek that he can’t seem to get rid of.

he doesn’t look happy.

and there’s an odd sinking feeling appearing in the pit of your stomach because of it.

“what do you want?” you ask, trying your best to breathe as little as possible through your nose. he smells like pure alpha, heavy and intense because of that wretched musk — a scent you definitely shouldn’t be in close vicinity of at this particular time.

“i want you to get the fuck out of this building already,” he snarls with zero hesitation, gripping the side of the doorframe so that he can shove himself even further into your space. “you’re stinking up the entire place with your omega bullshit and it’s making it hard to think.”

“ex-…” you blink slowly, taken aback by the jumble of insults he’s just thrown at you. “excuse me?”

“you heard me the first time,” he snips, baring his front teeth for a split second as he visibly cringes at you. his canines are sharp; it’s your first time noticing this since he sure as hell never smiled in your presence. “i’ve got work in the morning and i can’t relax when your scent is taking over the entire goddamn floor. either find someone to take care of your heat for ya and give that vibrator that you’ve been riding since last night a rest already, or move the fuck out.”

you stare at him, dumfounded and wide eyed just like the first time. he stares right back, with his jaw tightly clenched and his shoulders stiff.

and there’s just something about the way he looks at you now, about the way he looks now — so rugged and blatantly male and rough around the edges, that causes your panties to turn even slicker than they already are.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me… christ, are all of you omegas so freaking pathetic?” he mutters quietly as he watches you squeeze your thighs together.

you’re dressed in nothing but a pair of tiny panties and an oversized t-shirt since you planned to do nothing else but sit at home today and try to make yourself feel better. the thin piece of fabric is doing absolutely nothing when it comes to keeping the scent of your urges at bay.

kiba’s throat feels like it’s on fire. it makes it hard to speak when he says, “whatever, just- are you gonna do somethin’ about it or not?”

“no, i’m not.” in your disoriented, the-heat-has-outright-cooked-my-brain-and-turned-it-into-useless-mush state, you can’t help but say the first thing that pops into your mind, “i’ve got just as much of a right to be here as everyone else does, you know, and it’s not my fault that you can’t focus because your shitty alpha brain is telling you to breed me… so if that’s all, i’ll be kindly asking you to get off my doorstep. i have a toy i want to get back to.”

you go to slam the door shut right in front of his nose, only to be caught off guard when BAM! — he uses his hand to shove it right back open again.

oh, he’s definitely not used to omegas disrespecting him or acting bratty around him. because of it, he’s all up in your face in a matter of seconds, blood boiling underneath tan skin.

with every step he takes forward, you try to take one back, but it doesn’t take long for him to corner you. before you know it, he’s got you with your back against the wall. his cock is thick and heavy in his sweatpants, pressing against your thigh and exposing the fact that your heat is affecting him too, and you spring into action because of it, desperately fighting to create more distance between your body and his.

however, the problem is that he’s ended up standing so close to you that the proximity is practically non-existent. trying to shove him away is futile since he’s so much bigger than you that he looms over your smaller frame and keeps you caged between the wall and himself with no issue.

you don’t stand a chance against him.

“look at me.”

forced to act submissive by nature, you give in easily to his demand despite the fact that it takes all the effort in the world for you to even attempt to refuse it. so you lift your gaze like the good little omega that you are, and you come to learn that there are tiny summer freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. you’ve never gotten the chance to see him this upclose either.

mentioned bridge slightly scrunches with displeasure now as his hand moves to wrap around your throat. he leans in, his voice hoarse, “is anyone else in here with ya?”

“y-yes,” you stammer, upper lip wobbling because of the fastly upcoming tears that are threatening to fall any second now. you’re well aware that alphas can get aggressive whenever they slip into rut, so you and your big mouth have put yourselves in quite the predicament. and if anything, this particular situation is definitely good enough of a reason to cry about.

“don’t you dare fucking lie to me. that shit pisses me off.” he gives your neck a firm squeeze, enough to make you kick your feet against the floor in sheer, utter panic. a scared little voice in your head tells you that he could lift you right off the ground if he wanted to. or worse.

“no, n-no there isn’t anyone else here!” you squeak out. “it’s just me and my cat! m’sorry!”

his eyebrows draw together.

“what?” you ask warily, trying to calm him down by distracting him even though you’re well aware that he can smell how wet your pussy has become by now and that it’s making him lose more and more of his sense of morality. there’s just something about his touch… it’s so warm that it makes you want to arch your back, as unbelievable as that sounds. “is something the matter?”

“no,” he mutters, still looking unimpressed. god, do his features ever soften? “it’s just that i hate cats, is all… dogs are better.”

you make a mental note to remember this piece of information for whatever reason. what the fuck.

“anyway,” he continues before you can say anything. “let’s take care of your heat now. i have a game to watch later, so i wanna be done by six… unless you feel like warming my dick at my place, that is.”

“w-what?” you freeze, cold sweat rushing over you. one tear falls, sliding down your much too feverish cheek and you sniffle. “no, wait-”

“yeah, yeah, you don’t want it, blah blah blah,” he brushes you off so carelessly that it makes your pulse begin to hammer inside your ears. “and yet you’re still soaking wet between your legs and feeling like you’ll die if i don’t shove my cock inside ya this very instant. spare me with the poor, helpless omega crap, sweetheart... you ain’t foolin’ anybody.”

he’s looking directly into your eyes again, completely shameless and with zero remorse, and you’re so turned on by it that your clit is throbbing. it’s making you slightly nauseous.

“i…” you swallow thickly, trying not to think about the amount of saliva that’s gathering in your mouth. “i don’t-”

without a single warning, he presses himself against you in a way that instantly makes you buck your hips towards him in search for more friction. when he begins to draw back, you act before thinking; grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt and frantically tugging him closer.

“see, i told ya,” he purrs, cruel satisfaction evident on his face as he watches you struggle. “you need me.”

he’s right. god-fucking-damn it, he’s right. the urgency to have an alpha like him inside you has gotten so bad by now that you can barely stand. if it weren’t for his hand that he’s still got wrapped around your throat, you’re pretty sure you’d already be laying on the floor by now.

and that is exactly where you end up.

on the floor, naked, manhandled into a mating press and forcefully stuffed full with his cock. moaning like a slut, sweating like crazy and crying at him to stop, to fucking stop stop STOP, even though you’re the one who’s reaching out, desperately trying to cling onto him and keep him inside.

the sounds your pussy is making whenever he sinks in to the hilt is fucking embarrassing. you’re so wet, practically delirious with want, twitching and whining when he hits that sweetspot deep inside you. you don’t even know his first name, so you’re just babbling nonsense, clawing at his strong arms in meek attempt to punish him.

“open your legs wider f’me.”

the desire to spread your legs further for him even if he’s literally the meanest piece of shit of a man is making you feel disgusting, but you just can’t stop yourself from obeying. your body wants him, it yearns for him, and it’s making your hormones go batshit crazy.

“that’s it, sweetheart.” he pants above you as he praises you, back arching and bicep flexing when he places one hand on your belly. “trying to be such a good girl for your alpha, huh? gonna do just about anythin’ to get me to knock ya up.”

your sobbing intensifies when he presses into the bulge his cock makes underneath your skin.

it’s the first time you see him smile.

[theemissuniverse]

COMEDIC RELIEF! FEM!READER INTROS WITH MK 11 CAST PART 1

SUMMARY : You are a powerful Earthrealm warrior with the ability to pick up peoples fighting styles. (Basically Shujinko.) and shapeshift into them. You were once a part of the Black Dragon and dated Kano but left.

WARNING : Suggestive dialogue.

A/N : This was fun. I missed doing this.

ROMANCE FLIRTY DIALOGUE

Kung Lao

Fujin

Scorpion

Kitana

Nightwolf

Shao Kahn

Probably more that I forgot. main character wants to f with everything tbh

FATALITIES

Rock, Paper, Scissors

(Y/N) will shape shift into Scorpion first. She’ll throw the spear at the opponent and yell “Get Over Here!” She’ll pull you over towards her. She’ll shape shift into Sindel and use her scream, making all the skin pull off her opponent. Then she’ll change into Liu Kang and preform his bicycle kick to go right through her opponent.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

(Y/N) will change into whoever her opponent is. Then hit her opponent in the face repeatedly saying, “why are you hitting yourself?” The manically laugh and do a spin kick to kick their head off.

FRIENDS

Kung Lao

Scorpion (one sided on her side)

Nightwolf

Noob Saibot (one sided on her side)

Kitana

Liu Kang

Cassie Cage

Fujin

ALLIES

Sheeva

Sub-Zero

Raiden

Jax Briggs

Johnny Cage

Jacqui Briggs

NEUTRAL

Rain

Mileena

Jade

Erron Black

Kabal

Baraka

Kotal Kahn

ENIMES

Cetrion

Frost

Shao Kahn (one sided on her side)

D’Vorah

Geras

Kano

Skarlet

Sonya Blade

Shang Tsung

Kollector

Sindel

DIALOGUE

(Y/N) #1 : Who’s hotter? Kung Lao or NightWolf?

(Y/N) #2 : Shao Kahn.

(Y/N) #1 : There’s no hope for you.

(Y/N) #2 : Okay round two. Who’s hotter? Kitana or Sonya?

(Y/N) #1 : Skarlet.

(Y/N) #2 : Dear god, what is wrong with you?

(Y/N) : Is it hot in here or is it just you?

SCORPION : It’s me.

(Y/N) : I can’t tell if you’re going along with my flirting or if you mean that literally.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Scorpion* Get over here!

SCORPION : How many times are you going to say that?

(Y/N) : *back to normal* Until it gets old.

(Y/N) : *imitating Smoke* Where there is Smoke there is fire!

SCORPION : I do not say that.

(Y/N) : One of you ninja freaks do.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Sub-Zero but with Scorpion’s voice* Get over here!

SUB-ZERO : I do not say that.

(Y/N) : *back to normal* It’s not my fault you don’t got a cool catchphrase.

(Y/N) : Come on, Kuai, don’t give me the cold shoulder. Ha! Get it? Because you got frosty powers?

SUB-ZERO : Yes. I get it, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : Cool. Glad we’re on the same page.

JADE : You and Johnny Cage are a headache.

(Y/N) : Yeah but I’m the funny one right?

JADE : By the gods…

(Y/N) : You’re cute when you get all fiery.

JADE : I am not nor will I ever be interested,

(Y/N) : Are you Outworld women conceited? I was trynna be all girl power and compliment you.

(Y/N) : 50 bucks says I beat you.

RAIDEN : I do not wager money.

(Y/N) : If you’re broke just say that.

(Y/N) : Come on, Raiden! Hook me up with Fujin.

RAIDEN : I will not play matchmaker with my brother.

(Y/N) : So you’re broke and not a matchmaker? What are you good for?

LIU KANG : Are you ready for training?

(Y/N) : Not if Kung Lao isn’t here.

LIU KANG : You know you’re the only person to utter that.

(Y/N) : Double or nothing!

LIU KANG : *laughs* I have already beaten you twenty times, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : So??? I will be the last one standing!

(Y/N) : Is it hot in here or is it just you?

LIU KANG : Didn’t you use that line on Scorpion?

(Y/N) : Give me a break. I can’t keep track of everything I said.

(Y/N) : Do your bicycle kick into Shao Kahn. He won’t leave me alone.

LIU KANG : I pity that you have to deal with that.

(Y/N) : The chosen one pities me? I must be dead meat.

(Y/N) : I’m not the bad guy anymore, Sonya.

SONYA BLADE : You were with Kano. Bad guy still stands with you.

(Y/N) : Yeesh. If you want to fuck him, go ahead.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Sonya but with Kano’s voice* ‘Ello baby, did you miss me?

SONYA BLADE : That’s not funny.

(Y/N) : *back to normal* Don’t be jealous cuz you can’t do the voice.

KUNG LAO : How come you haven’t trained with me?

(Y/N) : I’m scared I’ll hurt you.

KUNG LAO : Oh, sweetheart. That’s just not possible.

KUNG LAO : You dated Kano?!

(Y/N) : Are you judging me, Lao?

KUNG LAO : I just didn’t know your type was losers.

KUNG LAO : It seems like all the men want you.

(Y/N) : I know right? I’m a total catch.

KUNG LAO : None are better than me.

(Y/N) : You know the Darth Vader thing you got going on is kinda hot.

NOOB SAIBOT : I will bring you to death.

(Y/N) : Okay on second thought….

NOOB SAIBOT : Your fighting is impressive for an Earthrealm woman.

(Y/N) : Why thank you dark shadow thing.

NOOB SAIBOT : That doesn’t mean you can beat me.

(Y/N) : Come on, Bi-Han. We were buddies, remember?

NOOB SAIBOT : I tolerated you. I do not like you.

(Y/N) : We’ll that’s just hurtful.

(Y/N) : Come on. Say it. Just once.

KANO : *sighs* Throw a shrimp on the Barbie.

(Y/N) : Aww. You do still love me.

KANO : That bloke still hitting on you?

(Y/N) : You know how many men I have lined up? You’re going to have to be more specific.

KANO : The one with the stupid hat.

KANO : Your last chance to come back to me.

(Y/N) : I’d rather be with Shao Kahn than you.

KANO : You got yourself a death wish.

MILEENA : Come dance with me.

(Y/N) : How about no?

MILEENA : Then I’ll make you.

(Y/N) : I’m kinda into the whole vampire thing.

SKARLET : I am no vampire you mistake.

(Y/N) : Ouch. That wasn’t even necessary.

JOHNNY CAGE : You and me would make the hottest couple in Hollywood.

(Y/N) : I’d rather die than be caught dating a white American man.

JOHNNY CAGE : Death over dating me? Seriously?

(Y/N) : Now that I think about it, Takeda is kinda cute.

JACQUI BRIGGS : Don’t even (Y/N).

(Y/N) : What? I said I was thinking it.

JACQUI BRIGGS : Don’t say it…

(Y/N) : Okay I won’t….your dad’s kinda hot -

JACQUI BRIGGS : Stop it!

(Y/N) : To what do I owe this displeasure?

D’VORAH : The Kahn wants you. Alive.

(Y/N) : The Kahn will be disappointed then.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Shang Tsung* Your soul is mine!

SHANG TSUNG : I sound nothing like that!

(Y/N) : *back to normal* Sure you don’t…

SINDEL : You are too weak for Shao Kahn.

(Y/N) : And yet…he wants me more than you.

SINDEL : A fatal mistake he has made.

KITANA : Tell Kung Lao I am not interested.

(Y/N) : Because you’re going to admit your undying love for me right?

KITANA : *laughs* You amuse me, (Y/N).

CASSIE CAGE : So do you like girls or boys?

(Y/N) : I like whatever looks good.

CASSIE CAGE : That is such a ‘you’ answer.

CASSIE CAGE : Come on, admit it. You like him a little.

(Y/N) : He keeps sending human hearts at my door. No!

CASSIE CAGE : Who knew Shao Kahn was a romantic?

(Y/N) : You know you want me.

JAX BRIGGS : Tuh. Not exactly my type.

(Y/N) : What I gotta do? Get a cheap blonde wig?

KABAL : Fighting me won’t make you gain all my moves.

(Y/N) : That is literally how it works.

KABAL : Ah shit.

SHAO KAHN : I will kill all my concubines just to have you.

(Y/N) : Why doesn’t anyone normal want me?

SHAO KAHN : You did not deny me.

SHAO KAHN : Earthrealm is wasting your power.

(Y/N) : Let me guess, you have better use for it?

SHAO KAHN : More than you know.

(Y/N) : Tell your scream queen wife to leave me alone.

SHAO KAHN : Her jealousy is its own weapon.

(Y/N) : How the hell did the tyrant want me?!

(Y/N) : Stop sending me human hearts in a box. It’s weird.

SHAO KAHN : What would you like for me to do?

(Y/N) : Not send me human hearts???

(Y/N) : How come you’re not my mentor and Raiden is?

FUJIN : Because we wouldn’t be able to go through one lesson without you flirting.

(Y/N) : I can’t help it if you’re hot.

(Y/N) : I’m ready to be blown away Fujin. Get it? Because you control the wind. And stuff…

FUJIN : Yes, (Y/N). I get it.

(Y/N) : Good. Let’s tussle.

(Y/N) : 50 bucks says I beat you.

FUJIN : Are you sure you want to lose all your money?

(Y/N) : Oh you think you’re the funny one here?

FUJIN : Ignore Shao Kahn’s advances, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : You say that like I’ve been hanging around with him.

FUJIN : After finding out about Sindel, I don’t know what to expect.

FUJIN : Your power is most impressive.

(Y/N) : *giggling* I take that like you’re flirting with me.

FUJIN : You take everything I say as me flirting with you.

NIGHTWOLF : You are a powerful warrior, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : *giggling* You make me blush, Nightwolf.

NIGHTWOLF : Show me what you can do.

(Y/N) : If your name isn’t Nightwolf then what is it?

NIGHTWOLF : I will never hear the end of it if I tell you.

(Y/N) : Aw. Don’t be shy, Nighty.

OTHER INTROS MENTIONING YOU

LIU KANG : (Y/N) says she likes you better than me.

KUNG LAO : Smart and beautiful. What doesn’t she have?

LIU KANG : The sense to realize I am the better one.

SHAO KAHN : I will have (Y/N) and take over Earthrealm.

KUNG LAO : Tuh. Don’t think you’re her type.

SHAO KAHN : Says the one who gets rejected for Liu Kang.

LIU KANG : You know…(Y/N) doesn’t seem like your type.

KANO : She wasn’t personality wise but body wise she was.

LIU KANG : You are truly insufferable, Kano.

SINDEL : That pretender has gotten under your skin.

SHAO KAHN : I don’t need you of all people to tell me that.

SINDEL : That rat will die where she stands.

SCORPION : Your ex will not stop showing her affections for me.

KANO : She’ll fuck anything with a pulse.

SCORPION : She dated you. I expect that.

RAIDEN : (Y/N), keeps asking about you.

FUJIN : Really? What has she said?

RAIDEN : Do not fall for a mortal, brother.

JOHNNY CAGE : We all know you wanna bone (Y/N), dude.

NIGHTWOLF : I can’t tell if you’re (Y/N) impersonating Cage or if that’s really you.

JOHNNY CAGE : Really? We act that much alike?

JADE : How are you friends with (Y/N)?

KITANA : She’s not as bad as you think she is, Jade.

JADE : I highly doubt that.

FUJIN : Stay away from, (Y/N).

SHAO KAHN : I am not threatened by an air bender.

FUJIN : You should be.

SONYA BLADE : (Y/N) is not your friend, Cassie.

CASSIE CAGE : Can’t you put your beef in the past? She’s cool.

SONYA BLADE : Once a black dragon, always a black dragon.

TOWER ENDING

I’m pretty much a badass so it was expected that I was the one to defeat Kronika. There was one thing I wasn’t sure about. The hourglass.

Changing history would mean the relationships I’ve made along the way would be forgotten. And I would go back to being the evil bitch in the Black Dragon.

In the new timeline, I made it exactly how it should be. Liu Kang and Kung Lao heroes. Shang Tsung, Shao Kahn, and the others casted away like they never existed.

Everything was supposed to be peaceful.

I started to feel a newfound boredom. Because there was no chaos and I made everything perfect, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The people I’ve once cared about had no recollection of me and I didn’t know what to be. The only reason why I was one of the good guys was because of the people that were near and dear to my heart.

So I did what I do best, I played the bad guy.

And damn does it feel good to be the bad guy again.

A/N : part 2 or mk 1 next?????

[visionsofmagic]

◜ mk1 men using their powers while f*cking you ◞

▸ includes: reptile, sub zero, scorpion [mk1 versions] ◂

▸ tags: nsfw content, explicit language, inappropriate usage of power/abilities, f!reader, kind of drabble, short, canon as possible as I can, licking, watching, petnames, fingering, edging, human form!syzoth, rude and sharp!sub zero, lover!mk1 characters, brat!reader, heat, cold. enjoy! ◂

▸ notes: watched 4+ hours cutscenes of mortal kombat 1 game and well, kind of fall in love with 80% of mk1 characters, so, couldn't help but write for a few of my fav characters from the game. requests open for the mk1 characters as well & have fun while reading, thank u! ^^ [can publish part 2 of this if you would like too!]

REPTILE is a shy lover. he finds himself trying to hide his nature whenever you two have sex not to hurt you because he knows you’re still fragile even though you try to believe otherwise. he never transforms into his reptile form while fucking you, so hard for him to do that but he would rather endure than hurting you in any way. however, that doesn’t mean he lacks fun and any sort of kinks in sex, no, contrary to that, syzoth has a kinky personality that allows him to like watching you, both as general and in bed - he can’t help, especially not when you’re so beautiful leaning on the bed you two are sharing, trying to give yourself pleasure with your fingers while screaming his name because he is away for a mission as you still believe - not knowing when he will return but here he is, standing right in front of you, watching how your fingers disappear inside your folds, going in and out, mouth agape, moaning his name over and over again as if they’re his fingers - or even his cock inside your walls. he likes how you miss him enough to do all of these. 

invisible to your eyes, he watches you until he’s sure you’re so close to the edge, then, chuckling teasingly, he appears slowly, giving you a heart attack right there but you forget all about it when his fingers replace yours, smirking like a brat, green eyes position on your pretty face as he looks at you fondly. 

“you’re so needy for me that you can’t wait for a few hours until I return, is that it, pretty?” he chuckles, head tilting and he listens to your pleases like they’re the prettiest sound he has ever heard. he makes you cum, more than once because he says, “if that is the case, I will fuck my pretty girl so deep that she will never forget it even when I leave.” 

SUB ZERO is not gentle at all when it comes to having sex with him. he prefers to make you remember who you belong to, whose name you’re screaming, and who makes your legs shake in weakness because he fucks you that good. he doesn’t think about what a kink is in detail but he knows he has a few and he uses them with you without hesitation. you like them as he understands from the voices you make, the expressions your face has, and cumming all over him without announcing because you can’t hold them any longer.

he knows he shouldn’t use any of his abilities while fucking you but he can’t help. he breaks his discipline side and uses them anyway from time to time while having sex with you; decreasing his body temperature when he fucks you behind, kneeling down until your naked back touches his bare chest so that you get close to cum, feeling a sense of chill.

he does that with some parts of his body either; his fingers when they travel on your body, in your mouth, between your thighs and holes - the tip of his tongue when it enters your pussy, making you lose your mind. he even changes its temperature from time to time only to earn the sounds you can't think you're making. he doesn't stop with his attempts of fucking you 'till you have a non-functional brain because of only him - his thick cock, the way he fucks you into oblivion and not holding himself back from using his abilities to his advantage to make you realize only he can fuck you like this. he's fond of your screams after all, begs that want him to stop because it's too much for you to handle go to deaf ears - not even when it's as cold as under a frozen surface of a deep sea.

"so cold, huh?" scoffs, humiliating your pathetic condition, "what were you thinking anyway whore?" he asks, poison in his voice, deep. "think that I would hold back because you beg so nicely?" laughs, holds your hair tightly as he fucks you from behind. "they're only praying for me to go deeper, my pretty slut." and he does - going deeper and colder each passing time and you only can take it all - you're his own pet to enjoy in the end.

SCORPION is a cute lover. he doesn't hurt you in any way as possible as he can, protecting you at all cost, keeping his fire at a minimum level whenever you're around - except while fighting of course. he never uses his abilities against you but oh, he can't deny that he loves it when you are a total brat, asking him to do such naughty things in bed, including using his fire to make intimate sessions more intense than it is needed - you both need it as you say, believing you can endure it and in the end, he accepts your pleases, allowing himself adjoining a few things he can do without hurting you.

firstly, he just uses it on his tongue when it enters your wet pussy, licking from your inner thighs to inside, giving you euphoria. he makes sure not to burn you, enjoying by himself too after seeing how turned on you are in these moments. he is a man who wants to please his lover more than himself in the first place - a gentleman. then, it begins with these simple pleasure times - it evolves into something that even you can't imagine happening and it takes you a long time to realize how scorpion has begun to his abilities on you in order to turn you on often; the cute lover discovers how you're affected by heat - in general, so, he thinks a way to make your heat go up without noticing he's the one who is doing it by increasing his body's heat as he comes near you, giving you hotness you can't ignore and start taking off your clothes one by one.

of course he acts innocent, asking how he can help you, and then smirking, saying how he makes you hot by just standing beside you. catching you in a trap with all his desires to have you, he reaches his plan's top point when you have a sports bra and shorts on your body and nothing else. oh, how he feels a kind of achievement when you agree with him, being naked and having one of the best fucking in your entire life to get rid of your heat after getting horny because of being exposed in front of the man you love. 

"my love, you give me a heat even my own power can't give; you have no idea how I am burning for you." he smiles down at you, eyes burning with sparkles of fire, "oh - beautiful, the most beautiful thing in the whole universe I have ever seen. let me burn you the way you are doing to me, my love."

[helluvapoison]

You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.

Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.

The Rat King.

Soon you would meet…

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain

• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close

• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before

“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”

“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”

• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something

• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue

• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put

• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”

Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.

Your smile faded.

“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“

Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.

• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.

No, it was worse.

Vulnerable.

“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.

Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.

A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”

“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”

• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?

• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.

“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.

He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.

• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.

Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!

“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“

“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”

• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.

“You’re welcome to come back?”

He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”

A smile of your own began to spread.

“I also dabble in conversation.”

_

(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)

[itsonlydana]

"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway)" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist + 

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Bonus Part — Fin x Reader.

Summary: A reimagining of how things would have gone if Reader had decided she wanted Fin — despite him being her friend’s father.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Heavy on the smut. 18+, minors dni. Some jealous and possessiveness. Mentions of forbidden relationships/affairs. If the choices Reader makes in this are something you’re against, I urge you not to read! 🫶🏻

Rita’s is like no other place you’ve been — or seen — before.

Is this what you’ve missed out on, trapped within the frozen maw of Windhaven? There is no place like this there, of such vibrancy and euphoria. The music, the coloured faelights, the energy — it all makes you feel…on top of the world.

Like there’s life outside the misery you’ve known.

Mor knocks a shot back, grimacing as she slams the empty glass onto the bar. A sudden burst of giggles leaves her as she says, “My father would have my head if he could see me right now. Literally.”

You don’t doubt that for a second, because Mor looks resplendent, not just in her natural beauty, but her joy. She has danced and drank and kissed and danced some more. And seeing her like this…it makes you glad that she convinced you to come out with her tonight.

“My father would have my head, too,” you tell her over the music. “I’m surprised he hasn’t already.”

At that, she rolls her eyes, and she reaches for two more shots. “Here’s to saying fuck the males,” she knocks her glass against yours. “May they all perish.”

You’ll happily drink to that. With the alcohol that has you in its grip, you’re buzzed on thoughts of storming back to Windhaven and confronting all your demons. Confronting anyone and everyone who has ever hurt you and made you feel less than you are. Your father. Lord Devlon. Azriel—

You banish that thought as the liquid slides down your throat with a satisfying burn. You are in Velaris, not Windhaven. A new place with new people, where anything feels possible. The thought is heady and dizzying.

Someone calls Mor’s name, and she glances over her shoulder, her beautiful eyes lighting up again. You truly don’t know how often she’s able to escape the Hewn City and get away to Velaris, but judging by the amount of friends she’s introduced you to tonight, she’s certainly made her mark here.

“Let’s go dance with them!” Mor yells over the music, grabbing your hand.

You think that dancing might be the answer to everything you’ve never known, and so you gladly follow; gladly throw yourself into the thrall of the busy floor.

But that’s when you see him.

Something…some deep power…compels you to look up. Coaxes your eyes to that area a level above, where the city’s VIP guests spend copious amounts of money on copious amounts of alcohol and drink it from their cushy velvet booths. They’re reserved for associates of the High Lord, a not-so-formal place to meet to discuss not-so-casual things.

But none of that matters. There could be an entire circus up there right now, and still all you would notice is — him.

He notices you, too.

The High Lord’s eyes zero in on you from up above. You watch, rooted to the spot, as he takes in the sight of you, from your braided back hair, to your painted face, your dress and the legs exposed by them. He looks like…like he’s finally setting his sights upon an image that was merely fantasy up until now.

He braces his arms on the balustrade. And he just stares.

You want to know what he’s doing here. Whether he’s at Rita’s for business or…or for pleasure. You’ve heard that there are rooms upstairs for people willing to pay the price. Perhaps there’s a lover up there with him somewhere, waiting to explore every last inch of that glorious, sculpted body—

The bleating jealousy that makes your heart twist is…unexpected. And not ideal; not one bit.

He is Rhysand’s father. Things may have been fucked up royally with Azriel, and you may have been burned by the experience — but Fin is Rhysand’s father.

Your friend’s father.

Your friend’s father who has just so happened to help keep you feeling alive these past weeks. With his layers-deep allure, the sweet, sweet words that roll off his tongue. His hospitality, his generosity. His kindness. All of it, you’d attributed to him being a natural charmer, a High Lord who knows precisely what to say, what to do.

It strikes you in that moment — just how much it’s all sunk its way into your bones and made you feel…dangerous.

He watches you like a cat with a mouse. Watches as somebody grabs your hand and yanks you into the tightly knit dancing bodies. The music pulses through you from head to toe, a frenzied tune of strings and keys that somehow come together to create the feeling of being borne aloft. Being on top of the world.

As you become lost to the sensation of dance, you’re glad to forget all your thoughts about Fin. You don’t want to wonder what he’s doing here. You don’t want to imagine what those strong, rough hands might get up to, where they might venture.

You become sandwiched between two males who dance with you in a way that makes you forget your wings were ever stolen. They touch you and touch each other, and you welcome it all, happy to be someone, somewhere, else. At least for a while.

But there’s suddenly a foreign touch to your shoulder. That of a cold, meaty hand that stills your movements and draws your attention. The two males happily slink away and begin grinding on each other, and you spin on the spot to find a tall, stocky male who looks like he punches people in the face for the hell of it.

“Y/N?” He checks, and you nod. “The High Lord wishes to speak with you. Upstairs.”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes searching for Mor and finding her just as she’s following a male and female to a cloaked-off area at the back. That’ll be her occupied for the remainder of the night. You’re officially going solo.

But not for long. Not as the bouncer juts his chin in the direction of the staircase and begins to lead you there. Perhaps it makes you a fool, but you follow without a word.

He pulls back a rope and gestures for you to go on up, and then he’s refastening it behind you and turning back to train a keen eye on the dance floor. It’s purely the alcohol that hits you with enough of an ego to climb those stairs like you belong amongst the chandeliers and velvet booths.

But you look good — amazing, even. You know you do. And looking like this, things like scars and other insecurities seem so trivial. You’ve taken back the right to feel as beautiful as you are. You wear your Illyrian features proudly, and you’re pretty and lithe and graceful—

And your heel catches on the top step of the staircase, almost sending you sprawling to the floor — if not for the warm hand that catches your elbow.

“Easy.” Fin rasps into your ear, setting you steady on your feet.

Your numbed, inebriated senses are not immune to the effect of his voice, it would seem. The deep baritone, rough as jagged rock, pushes its way into your skin, your veins, and spreads far faster than any alcohol could.

“Pardon me, my Lord,” you answer, and you’re unable to shove down the hysterical giggle that claws up your throat. “Fuck, you’re the High Lord.”

He cocks a dark eyebrow. “And you are drunk.”

“The whiskey they serve here is immense.”

“I’ll be sure to extend your compliments to Rita herself.”

Is that, you wonder, who he’s up here meeting? Perhaps the elusive Rita is a close associate of his. Perhaps they do deals in both business and pleasure.

And taking in your fill of the High Lord right now, in a dark button-up shirt and fitted breeches of a slate grey, you would not blame Rita one little bit.

Gods, he’s exquisite. Rhysand may resemble Roza more than he does Fin, but…with two parents of such stunning beauty, it’s no wonder your friend is as handsome as he is.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you make no secret of the way your eyes linger on him. Tonight is dangerous, and you’re enjoying it.

“Nor I, you,” he narrows his gaze down at you. “Imagine my surprise, considering that when I left the palace earlier this evening, you were curled up in the library with a book. And yet, here you are. Wearing…” mahogany eyes take in the short cut of your dress, “…that.”

“Mor surprised me with a visit.”

“My niece ought to be more careful not to press her father’s buttons too much,” a muscle in his chiselled jaw ticks. “And I think you ought to be more careful not to push mine.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Bold. So foolishly bold of you. You’ll regret it once sober, you’re sure. “Was there a particular reason you summoned me up here, my Lord? I was rather enjoying dancing.”

“I noticed. And I’m taking you home.”

“What—”

Before you can even finish the word, Fin’s gripping your elbow again, and darkness sweeps you away.

Being winnowed while drunk is not a fun experience.

You feel the cosmic, air-light step from one place to another. Your stomach lurches, your head spinning. You can barely get a hold of yourself as you cling to Fin and prepare your feet to touch solid ground.

And then the darkness is gone, and you’re back in the toasty, warm glow of the palace’s library. Your knees buckle, trying to drag you to the floor, but Fin keeps you upright.

“What the…” you gawp up at him. “Why did you bring me home?”

He ensures you’re able to stand on your feet before pushing away from you. Doesn’t even look at you as he commands, “Get to bed.”

“I was enjoying myself.”

“Just as those males were enjoying you, too. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it off. Get to bed.”

He strides towards the door, his knuckles white from how hard he grips the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side. But sword or no, you refuse to give up so easily.

“No,” you say simply. “I will not.”

Fin stops. Goes still. And then he turns back to you.

His temper is clear on his face, but he doesn’t storm back over like you’re half expecting him to. Instead, his eyes shutter, and he seems to take a deep, soothing breath. When he’s looking at you once more, he flicks his wrist in your direction.

And immediately, gone is the haze of the alcohol.

Immediately, you’re completely lucid, completely steady on your feet. Not a lick of inebriation remains, as if you had, indeed, slept it off.

“Did you just sober me up?” you’re outraged by the mere idea.

“Yes.” Fin admits shamelessly. “Now you won’t fall victim to a hangover in the morning — a favour from me, to you, and I ask you in return to get to bed. And don’t even think about trying to venture back out. I’ll know.”

Your blood boils. And the anger isn’t simply because of your ruined fun, but because…because it stings, the way Fin is treating you with such contempt. Scolding you like you’re little more than a petulant child. He’s been nothing but wonderful since you came to Velaris, and yet now, he speaks to you like…like most of the males back in Windhaven do.

It makes you see red.

“What right have you to dictate how I spend my evening?” you snap. “I was under the impression that my free time is my own, and if I wish to go and get drunk and dance like a fool, that is up to me.”

Cold, beautiful anger hardens Fin’s face. He stalks closer, squeezing the hilt of that sword so, so tightly. “What right have I? This is my home. My city. My court. I am your High Lord, and you choose to behave in such a way when I’ve opened my home to you and offered you refuge? When I’ve given you a place to run to and left my resources at your disposal?”

You rock back on the heels of your feet, staring at him. Every word lands a hit — as good as if he’d nocked them in a bow and fired them right at your heart. It stings. Gods, it stings. You want the careless oblivion of the alcohol back.

Because you grapple daily with the pain, the anxiety, of feeling unwanted. And you…you had begun to think that Fin actually cared for you. Actually enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.

You’d begun to care about his thoughts and feelings where you were concerned. And begun to believe that it wasn’t just the hospitality and courtesy that he would dole out to any runt on the street.

His eyes seem to track the way your expression changes, your shoulders slump. You swallow. The anger is replaced, simply, by hurt.

“If I am a burden, my Lord, I apologise,” you rasp. “I don’t intend to be one. I appreciate your generosity, and I…I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”

You hope you can keep your tears at bay long enough to escape to your room. You’re pelted with shame, embarrassment, hurt. You step forward and hurry past the High Lord, desperate to book it out of there, to get to bed.

But his hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you to a stop. And he says, quietly, “wait.”

That hand on your wrist holds the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

You pin your gaze to the ground, unable to look at Fin. You hear him swallow.

“That isn’t—” his voice is gravelly. “I didn’t mean that.”

You don’t think you can speak. You remain a statue beneath his touch.

But so gently — such a contrast to the whirlwind of his actions before — he’s walking you backwards. Slow and careful. You feel your back hit the wall, and he lets go of your wrist and seems to curl his fists at his sides. There’s a desperation to the action that only then coaxes you to look up at him.

His expression is…pleading. For what, you’re not sure.

“You are the furthest thing from a burden,” he says, quietly, on an exhale. “Your presence here is very much welcomed, I assure you.”

You don’t dare breathe a word. Every last bit of your very sober courage is being thrown into maintaining eye contact. There’s none to spare for speaking.

But your lack of response seems to trouble Fin. His eyes rake over your face, searching for something. He swallows again.

And then his eyes shutter, and he whispers, “Mother above, what are you doing to me?”

You don’t know how to answer him — whether he’s even talking to you at all. He takes in a very slow, very deep breath, as though it’s the only thing that’s stopping him from…doing something. What, you’re not sure.

But you can feel it, sense it — the ferocity with which he’s swallowing down words and holding himself back. Like he wants so badly to say something, but can’t.

His eyes open, clearer than they were seconds before, and he says in a far gentler tone, “Get to bed, Y/N,” he inclines his head. “Sleep well.”

With tense, squared shoulders, he turns — and it’s you, this time, that stops him. You halt him with a hand on his arm, and you could swear you feel the muscles flex under his touch.

“Wait,” you say, not ready to let him go, not prepared to leave things between you like this. “Stay and talk with me for a while.”

His jaw clenches like he’s gritting his teeth. “That isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? We talk all the time, you and I. And there are clearly things you’re holding back from saying—”

Your words are cut short as he suddenly meets your gaze with the intensity of a blazing fire. You think it might burn you. You hope it will.

“It’s a bad idea,” he grounds out, gutturally, “not because of what I want to say. But because of what I want to do.”

“What—”

“You are my son’s close friend. You are Roza’s guest,” he tugs his arm out from under your hand. “You are far younger than I am. I am trying my hardest — I have been trying my hardest — to be a good male. And right now, a good male would take his leave and go to bed, so I bid you goodnight, Y/N.”

“Fin—”

“I hope you sleep well.”

“Fin,” you grab for him again. “What if I don’t want you to be a good male?”

Beneath your touch, he stops. Goes preternaturally still.

Words punch out of you with terrifying gall — and truth. “What if I want you to do those things—”

Quick as a flash, he’s pivoting, and he has the upper hand. Has you pressed so tightly up against the wall, his body boxing you in.

And gods, the feel of it might set you on fire. A brush of your hands, a kiss on the backs of your fingers — they’re nothing compared to the weight and press of his muscles against your body. You want your clothes to melt away, and his, too. You want your hands on his bare, hot skin.

“I don’t think you realise what you’re saying,” he growls.

“I do,” you breathe. “I am completely sober. Completely clear of mind. And I am telling you, Fin, I want you—”

A strangled noise is the only warning you get before the High Lord’s mouth is on yours.

The kiss is pure power. It passes from him, into you, roils through your veins and makes you feel like somebody remarkable. It’s the cloak of darkness and the kiss of sin. Of somebody capable of very, very bad things.

And it’s immediately addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to get enough.

You claw at his shirt, tugging him closer, closer, and his broad hands cup your face as his mouth devours yours.

This kiss…it’s been building. The need for it has been working its way beneath your skin for a while. All the heated glances, the late-night conversations. All the thoughts, in the dead of night, of what Fin might be doing in his own bed. Wondering whether he was thinking of you.

It’s so, so forbidden. So wrong. But it feels so godsdamn right.

And the way Fin’s tongue slides between your lips and strokes into your mouth — it tells you that he feels it, too.

Your hands glide from his waist, round to his back, and you yank him harder against you. So desperate are you to feel him. Feel what you think you do to him.

He makes another low noise. And then he’s tearing his mouth from yours. But he lingers close, your foreheads touching.

“Better than I’ve been imagining,” he pants, his hands still clutching your face. “Much better.”

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” You know he has.

“I have imagined,” his thumbs sweep your cheeks, “doing all sorts of things with you, Y/N. Things that would make even the most salacious of a person blush.”

Such a relief — to know that it’s not all just some wild fantasy you’ve cooked up in your mind. That you’re not just some wayward, longing young female who craves the affections of an older male to patch her deep wounds.

No, it’s not that. It’s desire. It’s need. And it burns inside your veins until you think you might erupt into flames.

“I’ve imagined them, too,” you say, without a lick of shame.

Once again, his eyes are shuttering. Once again, he takes that slow, steadying breath. And as you watch him do so, you can’t bear the thought of him still grappling with right and wrong. You can’t bear the thought of him squaring his shoulders and walking out of here, leaving your lips bruised, your body aching, your heart hurting. You can’t bear it—

“I want you to do those things,” you lift your chin, gaze unflinching. “I want you to touch me.”

Fin’s eyes reopen.

He stares at you.

His throat bobs.

You have never seen somebody look so wild, so ravenous. There is heat everywhere, in his stare and in his taut body. His eyes flick down to your lips.

That mere glance at them is the deciding factor, it would seem.

He growls, the sound not at all one you’ve ever heard from a person, and he yanks you up into his arms and kisses you again.

So naturally, your arms twine around his neck, your legs locking around his waist. You can feel the strength of him against you, in the way he holds you. You can taste his crackling power.

He doesn’t falter in the kiss nor his steps as he carries you away from the wall, and you’re suddenly being placed down on the library’s desk, sending books and parchment and pens and ink pots flying. They all clatter loudly to the floor, and neither of you care.

But Fin does pull away to look at you, and there’s wicked, boyish charm in his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up. He merely says, “Oops.”

You surge up and kiss him again.

He sighs into it, like your mouth is the answer to all his questions. And when heated hands land on your thighs, you part them, allow him to slot his body in between. The mere feel of it has you pushing up against him, finding him hard—

But again, he pulls away. He scans your face and rasps, “Tell me you’re sure.”

You do not balk from his intensity. From the fact that this is the fucking High Lord of your court, who was changing this world and building a reputation long before you were a mere thought in your parents’ minds. You do not balk from the fact that there are a million different reasons that this is wrong.

You think only about the fact that it feels right.

And that translates into your voice as you say, firmly, “I’m sure.”

You think you see the words course through his body. They change something — forever.

“This isn’t about Roza,” he breathes — breathes heavily, like it’s taking everything to tamp down on the desire to devour you then and there. To say what needs to be said.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Nor is it about Rhysand.”

“No.”

“It’s about me and you.” He destroys what little gap exists between your bodies, his hardness pushing through his breeches, right up against your centre. His hands brace on the desk, either side of you. “And gods, I want you, Y/N. I want you so much, I can scarcely bear it.”

“Have me,” is all you manage — before he strikes.

You think, hope, that his mouth might find yours again — but he’s barely brushing it before his lips settle on your jaw. His hands travel up your legs, fingers biting into the flesh. They find your hips, thumbs delivering explorative sweeps. They tug your dress up as they climb, exposing more of you to the warmth of the room. Exposing more skin that you know he wants to lay claim to.

And when the hem of your dress is ruched around your waist, you smile — at your little wildcard exposed. That he finds no underwear hiding what sits between your legs.

Your choice to forgo a pair seems almost foretelling, now — like some part of you knew the night would end like this, and you wanted to be ready.

Fin’s eyes dip to your slick, exposed cunt. The hunger in them is almost intimidating. You open your legs just a little wider—

But his rough hand is gripping your chin, almost hard enough to hurt. And he snarls deeply, “It drove me to madness — seeing those two males dancing with you. Touching you.”

Pleasure bolts down your spine, and from the way his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your arousal is consuming him.

“Did it?” you stare back at him, welcoming the discomfort of his brutal grip.

“I wanted them dead. I wanted to draw my sword and gut them for even looking your way. For touching what I want to be mine.”

That pleasure again — skittering over your skin. His words do something to you. You bite down on a moan.

“It is yours,” you tilt your chin up to him, smiling when he immediately glances to your lips. “Take it.”

“I warn you,” he lowers his face to yours, “I don’t like to share.”

“And I warn you, High Lord,” you watch as your words land, drawing a deep, raw scent from him. “Neither do I.”

With a growl, he snaps. The kiss he gives you is not slow or sweet. His hand continues to grip your face, and his mouth attacks yours, his tongue sliding between your lips. You can’t help your moan, this time, as his taste overpowers you — a taste that you can only describe as pure thunder.

But it ends too soon, as he begins to leave a trail of heated kisses and bites and sucks along your jaw, down your neck, your collarbones. Your head falls back, and the touches are like little zips of lightning — lightning cleaving through the night sky.

“Pretty dress,” he hums against your skin — and that’s all the warning you get before that dress is ripped apart. Torn to ribbons.

No part of you is left to Fin’s imagination.

He tears his mouth from you and steps back to drink you in.

Instinct roars at you to curl in on yourself and hide. To remember that you are scarred, and flawed, and not to the liking of many — including yourself, a lot of the time.

But something about Fin’s weighty, scorching stare stops you from moving a muscle.

You lift your chin and hide nothing as he takes his fill. His eyes travel a journey from the top of your head and down — down your face, your neck, your breasts. Down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Down to that fine dusting of hair on your pelvis that tracks a thin path to—

Fin drops to his knees with a low noise. His hands wrap around your legs and prise them further apart.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he levels his face with the very centre of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight.

The sight of the High Lord on his knees before you — on his knees for you.

As though he senses the direction of your thoughts, his eyes flick up, and he smiles.

And then he dives in.

His tongue wastes no time in sinking between your folds, licking a broad stripe right up the centre of you. At the first stroke, your head falls back, your arms wobbling where they’re braced on the desk.

“Look at me,” Fin growls. “Only me.”

His voice of pure High Lord power drags your eyes back to him. And thank the fucking Mother it does.

You see everything in the way he feasts on you. His tongue laps at your wetness, and it coats his lips, his chin, coats him in you. The damp heat of his tongue is liquid fire. It promises to scorch you, end you, and rise you anew like a phoenix from the ashes.

Your fingers sink into the strands of Fin’s hair and tug. Judging by the noise he makes, the way his pace picks up, you think he likes it.

He utterly fucking devours you, like he’s fought a centuries-long wait to do so. And whatever magic commands his mouth — you know you cannot possibly last against it.

“Oh, gods,” your moan breaks from you, hips bucking up. You think your voice might be loud, but you don’t care. “Fuck—Fin.”

It all happens at once — his name falling from your lips, the growl rumbling in his throat, the flicking of his tongue against your clit and the finger he plunges into you, curls inside you. Every part of it is lightning strikes to your veins, and you come apart, utterly break.

Your climax slams into you and steals your breath. You’re nothing but a gasping, panting, trembling shell. Your mind is somewhere else entirely.

With your head falling back, eyes pinned to the ceiling, chest heaving, you don’t catch the swiftness with which Fin stands, licking your wetness from his lips. With which his clothes are gone in a blink of an eye.

But then he commands, “Look at me.”

It’s the second time he’s said it. Your head lolls forward once more.

You swallow the breaths you’re still trying to get down. Try to stop your body fucking shaking.

But it’s no wonder it does, as you look at him.

Your High Lord is nothing short of exquisite. He is art. Your fantasies have done him no justice.

That golden skin of his seems to attract the glowing light of the room. It bathes him, but it does not steal the attention. It outlines every fine plane of his body, the sculpted muscles on show, the nicks of injuries that have scarred and silvered over time.

There is not a single part of him that isn’t pure, refined power. And when your gaze drops to below his waist…a shudder wracks through you.

His cock stands hard and leaking at the head. You watch, your mouth watering, as he wraps a hand around its length and gives a long stroke.

“Fin—”

“When you look at me like that,” he prowls closer, “there is no way I can consider this forbidden.”

He’s within reach. Your fingers inch towards him. You want to touch him, taste him—

But he curls a hand around yours and stops you in your tracks.

“Not tonight,” he says. Pure promise is laced within the words. “No playing tonight.”

As if he hadn’t just played with you. You want to protest, to get your fucking mouth around that considerable length, but his hand tightens around yours.

And then he’s flipping you over, so fast that you don’t have time to even register it. You land on your front, your belly and breasts pressed against the desk. Fin lays his palm against your back and drags it slowly down. And in the wake of his touch, he leaves kisses. Kisses to your shoulder, your back. They’re…soft. Tender.

“Have I disappointed you?” he murmurs against your shoulder, folding his body over yours. You don’t think it’s an accident that the head of his cock nudges that sweet area between your legs.

It’s all you can do to breathe, “I wanted to taste you.”

“And you will,” he drops the brush of a kiss to your skin. “But now is not time for that.”

You don’t need him to tell you what now is the time for. Not as his hands find the flesh of your hips, and he yanks you to the very edge of the desk, moving with you. The feel of him so close to where you want him is downright cruel.

“Have you thought about me fucking you?” he asks, those hands travelling to rove your ass.

Your nails bite into the desk as you answer, “Yes.”

“Did I make you scream?”

You bite down on your lip at the feeling of him spreading you apart, opening you up to him. “Yes.”

You feel it — his cock sliding between your folds. Not pushing in, but dragging torturously against your sex. From your entrance, up to your clit. The head of his cock pushes against it.

And the moan that rips from you is downright filth, as he rolls his hips and allows your wetness to slicken his length. It feels so fucking good. To you, and to him.

A breath shudders out of him, and he purrs, “Are you going to scream for me now?”

“Fuck yes,” the words tumble from your lips. “I want you, Fin.”

Just like that, his restraint snaps. The High Lord strikes.

He drags his length through your folds and enters you with a single, powerful thrust.

A shout leaves you, and you’re clawing at the desk, trying to keep your grip against the pleasure that courses through you. Fin fills you and stretches you. He pulls out and slams back in to the hilt.

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he growls, his hands sinking back into your hips. He begins a steady thrusting, sliding in and out of you with a drag that makes you feel every glorious inch of him. “Gods.”

“So good,” you pant. “Want you harder.”

The plea seems to make him groan, and he wastes no time in picking up the pace. His hands bite into your skin as he fucks you faster, harder, your moans and pleas and curses falling from your lips without any nudging from you. The pleasure is all-consuming. In seconds, it’s buried within your veins.

“You like that?” The grit in his voice has you clenching around him. He’s so fucking filthy, so fucking sultry, as he snarls, “you going to be a good girl and come for me?”

Gods, yes, you are. Already, release is coiling tightly within you, and it’s a force entirely of its own right, inching closer and cresting the hill, ready to sink its claws into you. Fin’s cock hits deep, and out of nowhere, his palm is flying through the air and making contact with your ass cheek. That is all it takes.

The pleasure of it all is too much — the sting of the slap, the depth and thrall of his thrusts, the way he growls and grunts as he lays claim to your body, your pleasure.

You cry out, your orgasm blasting through you with unstoppable force. The long strokes of Fin’s cock fuck you through it, through earth-shattering pleasure, through what feels like a mind-altering experience.

“My filthy girl,” he pulls out of you suddenly, and though your cunt still clenches and twitches, desperate for more, more, more, he flips your trembling body onto its back once more and tugs you up, slipping back between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how relentlessly I’ve thought about making you scream for me like that.”

Past words, you can only reach up and pull his head down to yours to capture him in a kiss. Your taste still coats the tongue that he slides between your lips. It spurs you on to deepen it, luxuriate in the feel of it. And you become so lost in it that you tug hard at the strands of his hair when he enters you again in one great, sweeping thrust.

His arm folds around your back, hand grasping at your shoulder, and it seems to afford him perfect purchase to pound into you. Sounds fill the air of his skin slapping against yours, of the breaths and moans you huff into each other’s mouths. You think the two of you, together, might be loud enough, forceful enough, to bring the City of Starlight to rubble around you.

Fin’s lips tear away from yours, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts are growing quicker, sloppier, reaching a feverous pinnacle that will surely break.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come, Y/N,” his sweat-slick brow presses against your neck. “Taking me so well like this. Squeezing me like this. You’re going to make me fucking blow.”

You want that — more than anything. To feel the power of him spilling into you.

You squeeze your thighs against his, dragging your free hand — the one not sunken in his hair — down the muscles of his shoulders, his back, his waist — to his ass, where you dig your nails into the tight, toned flesh and encourage him to pump into you harder, faster. The feel of it makes Fin shout.

“Come for me,” you choke around your pleasure. “Please, Fin…want you to come.”

An animalistic growl rips from him, and he slams into you one, two, three more times, and then stills, throwing his head back with a roar that shakes the library. Hot, thick ropes of his seed seem endless as they’re unleashed inside you.

The force of it shatters you both, you think. With his trembling as thorough as yours, your nails are still raking over his skin as his brow presses to the crook of your neck. Strands of hair stick to the back of his. Your fingertips smooth over them tenderly.

It feels like eons that you stay there like that, holding each other up from collapsing under the weight of your mutual release. You want to hold him like this, always. You don’t care what others may have to say about it, what they may deem to be wrong about it. You want him.

He pulls back, as though sensing the thought. Meets your eyes. For a beat or two, he simply studies your face, something like clarity on his own.

And then he dips down and drops a kiss to your brow. Such a tender act, in the wake of such passion.

 No words are needed. Not as he scoops you up into his arms, leaving behind the mess the two of you have created. There’s a flash, and he’s winnowed you to your bedroom. A fire roars to life immediately. Fin places you down on the bed.

You watch through hooded eyes as he makes his way into the bathroom. Moments later, he’s returning with a warm, damp washcloth, and he perches beside you.

“Open your legs for me,” he whispers, and you do.

The High Lord of the Night Court is gentle as air as he takes care of you, wiping between your thighs and delivering soft, soothing strokes to your skin. A pleasant soreness sits in your lower belly. He leans down and presses a kiss there like he knows just that.

And then he’s sitting up, and it frightens you — the thought of him walking away, of this ending here and now.

So you lay a hand on his arm, breathing, “Stay with me.”

He pauses, eyes roaming your face like he’s assuring himself you mean it. And then he dips his chin.

“I would be honoured,” he rasps.

And thus, the affair begins.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The need you and Fin have for each other is…insatiable.

Every moment he’s away, you’re thinking of him, longing for the moment he’ll appear in your room and rip your clothes off. If anyone else in the palace — staff, servants, associates — are aware of what’s going on, they don’t give it away. And that suits you just fine.

You can’t get enough. You’re giddy with it. Giddy from the multiple, interesting circumstances you’ve landed yourself in.

Like when you lured him out of a meeting and dropped to your knees in a fucking broom closet, taking his cock into your mouth until he was canting his hips forward and spilling down your throat. Or when he fucked you on the balcony of his personal quarters, your body pressed up against the balustrade, the two of you open to the elements and your moans loud enough to reach the stars above you and the city below you. Or when he took you to watch the ballet, and up in the cushy surrounds of your private viewing box, you watched the performance with him deep inside you, his fingers indolently playing with your clit, his low voice in your ear reminding you to keep quiet.

It’s…exciting. Enthralling. It changes everything.

And as he pulls out of you now, sweaty and panting, and collapses beside you in his bed, you’re not sure you could ever tire of this feeling.

He wants you. He wants you so ferociously, like nobody has ever wanted you before.

As you catch your breaths, he props his head up with his hand and stares at you through hooded eyes, glazed with lust. He leans down and grazes a kiss to your mouth.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” he ponders as he pulls back, moving a hand to brush his fingers over your breast. “All this need — wanting you constantly.”

You lean up on your elbows, tilting your head, “Do you want it to stop?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Never.”

Never. Never is a very long time. It makes your stomach flip — the enormity of it.

Fin circles the tip of his forefinger around your pebbled nipple, watching with predatory fascination as he adds, “But this will, inevitably, blow up in our faces at some point. We haven’t exactly been secretive — not that I want to be. But people will talk.”

You lean up to brush your mouth over his. “Let them talk,” you say, and kiss him.

Immediately, he melts into the kiss. Your mouth seems to have an effect on him that you never thought yourself capable of. Always draws a long, pleasured sigh from him as he sinks into it, welcomes it.

He kisses you and kisses you, so greedily, so desperately. His hand snakes up to cup your cheek. He’s already hardening against your leg.

But he pulls away, dropping his forehead against yours. And he breathes, “Make a bargain with me.”

You trace a thumb over his bottom lip. You’ve never made a Night Court bargain before; never had reason to. “What bargain?”

“When this blows up in our faces,” he grips your hand, folding his own over it, “we face it together. You and I.”

“You and I?”

“You and I” he kisses your hand. “I don’t claim to be perfect. I don’t try to be. I can be brutal and callous, and I can lie and play games,” another kiss. “But not with you. Never with you. I will look after you. Take care of you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

Words that you’ve always longed for someone to say to you. Words that should not be taken lightly, should not be said without meaning.

But you know he means them. You can tell he does.

You watch closely as your fingers interlace with his. And you whisper, “Together?”

Fin’s thumb sweeps over yours. “Together. We’ll face it together.”

“Then it’s a bargain.”

A flash of splintering pain zips around your midriff. You glance down to find the tattoo now inked there. The black line that draws a perfect circle around your waist, like a trail of night-kissed lightning.

You look up at Fin to find a roguish smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, I like that,” he hums.

And then he’s leaning down and pressing kisses to that circlet signifying your promise to one another. Kisses the entirety of it, flipping you on your front in the process.

And kisses lower, until you’re screaming for him again.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-a-girlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

[nohoney]

imagine: you just had a nasty breakup and you decide to take a break from serious dating and have a hot girl summer for yourself. just sex zero commitments fuck as many people as you want. the problem arises when the first guy you end up fucking, bakugou, is so good so you decide to keep him on as a fuck buddy while you continue looking for future conquests.

little do you know that bakugou fell head over heels for you after that first night together and now he’s doing everything within his power to get you to fall in love with him, that is everything short of actually telling you his feelings because he’s so emotionally constipated and damn near bites your head off when you playfully joke that he might have a crush on you.

oh my god oh my god (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

bakugou tries to keep his cool so bad, doesn’t ask questions or doesn’t want to think about how you’re still out there seeing other people aside from him. he feels a little ridiculous that it seems to be a one sided thing—he’s got your contact pinned to the top of his text inbox, he keeps toiletries of your preference in his home, and hell he gave you his passwords for two of the streaming services he pays for!

it’s all shit that he thinks screams i fucking like you!

and yet he can’t muster up the actual words to say it out loud. because you don’t want to be tied down, you want to experience being single after your shit break up, and you don’t trust any person right now to handle your heart after what you’ve been through.

bakugou respects all that, but he really really wants you and you’re the only one he wants to be seeing. he’s so damn stupid though because you joked one time about him having some feels for you and he was too quick to snap at you.

“this is only for fun, that’s it.” he reacts instinctively even though he knew he should have said otherwise in that moment. and there was no awkward silence or weird look with how fast he reacted to your joke. only a laugh and an agreeing nod as you dipped a strawberry into a little bowl of nutella he had ready for you as a post sex snack.

“yeah, i’m sooo grateful that you’re my number one right now. can’t believe how lucky i was to get you on the first try!”

number one on your roster, it’s a title that bakugou is happy to have and also hates it at the same time. there’s others after him, numbers two to four or maybe you’ve got eight people on your list—fuck!!!

it drives him crazy!

he doesn’t want to drive you off with these stupid feelings, and he’s especially smug when you text him about some date that had pissed you off beforehand and that you’re heading over to his place. he hopes that the sex he gives you is so good that it’s enough for you to reconsider just making him your only fuck buddy. he quite literally prays on the downfall of your dating life so that he’s the only one around.

so for now he settles with letting you sleep in his bed when he fucks you too hard, hoping that the breakfast he makes you in the morning screams the message i can be your boyfriend.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can you write one where the reader is supposed to executed after Shibuya cause she’s in a relationship with Gojo. I kinda want it to be angsty, but you do what you want with this!

I know you said angsty, but all I can hear is bad bitch (the elders are REALLY angsty though lol)

Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed but kicking ass instead

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...

Warnings: lots of violence, (y/n) takes no shit in this one, language, not proofread yet

This is kinda like a continuation of this fic here

The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor are the only thing that hangs in the air along with that deadly silence – literally.

You aren’t dumb. Of course you know why you’re here. Satoru is sealed, the only jujutsu sorcerer they were always afraid of. And since your husband is gone and nobody knows when or if he’ll return, these old farts seize their opportunity to finally get rid of you, to get rid of Yuji, to get rid of Yaga.

Well, maybe you weren’t exactly kind to them these last years. Yes, you were a pain in the ass yourself, threatening to kill every single one of them more than once. And with your husband, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time, chuckling in the background, they simply had no choice but to hear you out.

Not anymore, though. Not when your husband is sealed in a tiny box with no way out.

You play with a strand of your hair while making your way to the huge door that separates you from them, containing your temper and breathing. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about the fact that they want to execute you. But Yaga, Yuji…There’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen, no way you’ll let them kill you this easily.

“You have some fucking nerve, calling me here after our last meeting. Didn’t I told you urgent enough what happens when you threaten my students?”

Confidently, you position yourself in the middle of the circled room, glaring right through their dark figures with your death stare.

“As if it’s not enough that I lost my husband in Shibuya while, if you even care about that minor detail, we all tried to save everyone in Japan from certain death. You know what would have happened if we didn’t fight until the very end, right? You know that we did all of this for the innocent people out there, right?”

Tame down your beating heart, your rushing blood. If you get angry, you might lose it all. And while Satoru supports you no matter what you do, you don’t want Yuji to look at you with those innocent disappointed eyes. No, you aren’t here to kill every single one of them.

But if one wrong word leaves their mouths, one word of disrespect against your beloved husband…

“You will be executed, (y/n) Gojo.”

You can’t contain a disrespectful huff. You, executed by those old farts? That you don’t laugh, that you don’t slaughter all of them on the spot.

“While you sat here on your old asses, my husband, I and countless others were out there fighting bravely for stranger’s life’s. Who are you to judge over mine? Who do you think you are to even consider you’d be able to take my life from me?”

Your threatful eyes seem to glow in the dark, hands clenched into fists so tightly that your own blood spills onto the marble ground.

“But all you care about is supremacy, isn’t it? Masamichi’s formula for creating independent cursed corpses, my infinite powers…You give zero fucks about the jujutsu sorcerers out there. All you care about is your puny selves”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Shut your mouth. You are no threat to us.”

Did you hear that correctly? That man sitting to your right didn’t just raise his voice at you, didn’t just say that you can’t hold a candle against them. Them, a room full of old farts. Them, who are too afraid to even fight. Them, who hide in this stinky room in order to protect themselves.

“Am I not?”, you mutter.

Within the blink of an eye, you throw one of your poisoned needles towards him, hitting his shoulder just how you wanted. Immediately the tension in the room is thick enough to get sliced, all elders springing up immediately.

“Come on, attack me, kill me if you dare. I couldn’t care less. Never forget that you are talking to me, (y/n) Gojo. There is a reason why Satoru married me and it certainly wasn’t to protect me.”

Oh, how much you miss him. What you would do to have Satoru back on your side.

“You are nothing without Satoru Gojo!”

“Look who’s there, the woman who just threatened the higher ups of Jujutsu High all on her own. Did you really choke that man?”

Your husband grinned at you widely, his blindfold already taken off. You simply shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him.

“Apparently I was able to convince them somehow. Come on, we should get going. I hope all of them are alright…”

God, how much you long for his tender touch, how much you’d do for him standing right by your side right now. Not to handle the situation for you, but to know you’re not alone.

Are you alone, though? Your husband might be sealed, but he isn’t dead, let alone gone. He’s still somewhere out there and thinks about you, still supports you from where ever he is. No, with Satoru as your beloved husband, you’ll never truly be alone.

“I am enough to make sure none of you will ever see the daylight again if you insist on this path. If you hurt Yuji Itadori-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. All of the sudden chains fly your way, trap you right in the middle of the room in the matter of seconds. For a brief moment your senses fail you, darkness summons you like a veil. Is this your end? Are they really able to bring you down this easily? You simply can’t die like that, not through their dirty hands, not when you weren’t able to say goodbye to your husband.

Your trembling breath hangs in the air, cursed metal digs into your tender flesh. Satoru…His face appears before your inner eye.

“Hey, you aren’t giving up now, aren’t ya? You’re just getting started, babe!”

You are better than them, stronger than them, braver than them. You huff to yourself, thick fear and power starts pumping through your veins. Fall seven times, stand up eight.

“Let’s get the party started.”

Their puny chains tear like threat under the sheer force of your bare arms, setting you free like a bird.

“See this as your final warning.”

Your fists discolour the room in deadly crimson, lighten up their scared faces.

“If you ever touch me or my students again.”

Fire runs through the room like a storm, lights them up, lets their flesh melt away like butter.

“I will kill every single one of you without blinking. Every. Single. One.”

Their desperate screams fill you with satisfaction while you keep going, shooting your poisoned needles their way, letting each one of them collapse underneath the weight of their sins.

“I kindly advise you to never mess with any member of the Gojo clan. Even though I’m not my husband, I’m definitely strong enough to end every life in this room if you keep threatening my students, friends and myself. If you ever dare to call me again…”

You snap, sending another wave of cursed fire their way.

“Well, maybe not do that. Now excuse me, I have to look after my students and figure out how to free my husband. See you never again.”

With one last satisfied grin, you turn on your heels and walk out, closing the door behind you for what you hope forever.

Was this the right thing to do? Did you cross a line you shouldn’t have crossed? Maybe you put Yuji in even more danger, maybe Masamichi still gets executed.

No.

Stop your train of thoughts.

This is not the right time to doubt yourself. They want to execute you, want to wipe you from this earth without a trace?

“That I don’t laugh…”, you mutter to yourself.

“There you are, Gojo-sensei! I was looking for you!”

A gentle smile creeps up your face and makes you forget about what just happened immediately.

“Hey, how are you feeling today, Yuji? Did Shoko treat your wounds?”, you question, gently wrapping your arm around the pink-haired boy who went to hell and back.

“I was thinking about a way to free Gojo-sensei and I’d love to try it with you! Oh, your uniform is a little burned. Are you alright?”

His eyes dart all over your body worried while you can’t fight a wide grin any longer.

“That? Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Come on, show me what you’ve find out.”

Bonus:

“Can you imagine? They called me to literally execute me. Wanna know what I did?”

“You bet I do…”, Satoru mumbles to himself on top of a pile of bones.

“I kinda burned them to the ground. But don’t worry, I am almost certain they survived. Hopefully they’ll leave Yuji, Masamichi an me alone now. But I think that could have consequences, so maybe move your ass out of that cube a little faster”, you bubble.

Satoru lets out a heartfelt laugh. So you really threatened the elders again? No wonder he married you, that force of a woman.

“I’ll come back to you babe. And then we’ll  both kick their asses together.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

can I request a Vox x reader fluff where they've both been struggling to come to terms with their feelings but when something (you can decide what) happens and the reader gets hurt really badly, he confesses

ANOOOOOOOOON!! YOU. GET ME. SO GOOD. HOW DARE YOU HIT ME UP WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES?? Literally, give this trope to me as many times as yall want. I'll find a million ways to write it. Reap the repercussions and enjoy the food you beautiful homie, you!

Star-Crossed Idiots [Vox x Reader]

Vox refused to believe it.

Velvette had been the one to call him out on his shit first. Unlike him, she had a semblance of emotional maturity that meant she was perceptive to shit that flew over his head entirely. While he didn't understand why he found himself going out of his way to spend time with you, Velvette figured it out in a matter of days. The very fact that he had kept his involvement with you a secret was suspicious in itself. Not to mention, Velvette realized before he did. When she discovered his feelings for you, she found it hilarious. And a touch pathetic.

"I mean really Vox, you have zero reason to even know them," Velvette scoffed as she sipped on the frappuccino he had used to buy her silence. Things were already messy enough with Valentino. He had no intention of the pissy moth hearing of this until whatever this was, was sorted.

"Yet you constantly check in on their phone activity, go out of your way to run into them on the streets, and now they're even working for you just because your needy ass wanted an excuse to see them on the regular," Velvette listed as Vox did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

Vox buried his face in his hands and groaned while Velvette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask them out at this point? I love you, darling, but you're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"No," Vox growled as he looked up and shot her a warning glare. "Do you have any idea how much shit we'd be in if I just started dating some random sinner? And that's only if the feelings were mutual."

He ran his hand down his screen with a huff, turning to look at Vark swimming up to the glass. While Vox had originally had the aquarium extend to the meeting rooms for a sense of looming intimidation, he'd found quite a bit of comfort in his sharks being able to follow him through the tower.

"Look, for all we know, I'm just pent up," Vox tried to reason. It sounded fake, even to his own ears, but he was in denial. There was too much bullshit he'd have to face if he really was as whipped for you as he feared. "It's been a shit couple of weeks. I probably just need a break and a good fuck and this will all be something you make fun of me about next week for ever entertaining in the first place."

Velvette shook her head, sighing as she pulled out her phone and started to scroll.

"Whatever you say."

---

You refused to believe it.

There was no way you fell for Vox of all people. For starters, you told yourself you'd never love again! Every time you'd tried, disaster followed. It didn't help that any potential match was one to be made in Hell. Granted, you knew not everyone in Hell was bad. There were a lot of sinners who you firmly believed belonged in Heaven or some sort of equivalent.

But even so... Vox was definitely not one of those people. Not that that was the important part or truly mattered. You were no saint either, you were also in Hell.

"I don't see what the big deal is toots," Angel Dust sighed as he watched you give Fat Nuggets attention to keep your hands busy through the stress. "There are worse people to have a crush on."

"There's better too," you whined. "I'd rather not have a crush at all," you muttered bitterly as your hand continued the soothing action of petting the teacup pig.

You'd originally been on the production team for one of Valentino's studios. That was how you befriended Angel Dust and why Vox scooped you out from under Valentino to work on his own set. He told you it was because he valued someone who had an ear for audio balance, but Angel said he'd only offered you the new job after the overlord walked in on the cameraman flirting with you right before.

"Why not just fuck the guy and see if it's a matter of heart or a matter of-"

You laughed as you covered Angel's mouth with one of your hands. "Okay, okay! Don't... finish that sentence. I won't let you taint poor little Fat Nuggets ears with your porn language."

Angel snickered as you pulled back your hand. "But you see my point, right?"

"I do," you sighed. "But that's... not really my style. If anything, I think it'd just hurt to see him after something like a casual fling. The idea of him wanting my body, but not me? Yeah no. I'll choose the healthier option of repressing my feelings, thank you very much."

"I'm telling ya, he's into you," Angel groaned. "I've seen the way he is with people he thinks are hot. I've seen him with Val. You're different, toots."

You smile sadly at Angel and put Fat Nuggets down on the bed. It was clear you didn't believe Angel and he was on the verge of ripping out his fur because of it. The two of you were so unbelievably oblivious it was gonna kill him again. "Thanks, Angie but... it's okay. Really, it is."

He sighed and eventually let it go. The two of you talked about other things for a while before Charlie peeked into his room to ask for your help on something. Once you were gone, he rolled over the conversation in his mind as he tried to think of ways to get the ball rolling on your love life.

Angel shook his head with a sigh and pulled out his phone. He scooped up Fat Nuggets and flopped back in his bed as the dialing sound filled the room. The line connected, and he was quick to the point.

"Hey, I know we don't really talk, but I've got an idea."

---

"Really Angie, I don't think this was necessary," You grumbled as you tugged down on the all-too-short skirt of the outfit he'd squeezed you into.

"Oh, but it was and it is," Angel grinned as he took your hand and twirled you in the entry hall to the club. You rolled your eyes and let him spin you in jest. He'd asked you to come with him to one of your old coworkers' birthday parties.

Apparently, one of the rules was to dress like you'd get hired to dance at the club. At least, that had been Angel's excuse when you questioned why he was hovering over you as he did your hair, and makeup and held up several outfits to your body that you doubted would fit.

Despite the discomfort of getting all dolled up, you were happy he'd invited you. It had been a while since you saw your old friends. That being said, it would have been more fun if you weren't tugging down your skirt every two minutes. You weren't the only one hyperaware of how much of your skin was exposed. Nor of the way the fabric hugged your frame tightly. Several of your old friends had suggested you return to the studio with a job in front of the camera instead of in the shadows of the set.

You'd been having a good time, sticking to the corner of the room with some of your old friends to watch the drinks while the rest were out on the dance floor. One of the drunker sinners of the bunch accidentally knocked over some of the drinks while she'd been telling a story about the recent cam show she did. You volunteered to go get more napkins from the bar. One of your friends came with you to reorder the ruined drinks and the two of you had nearly pushed your way through the crowd when you heard a familiar voice call your name through the noise.

Vox didn't have to fight through the crowd the way you had. The second sinners saw the glow of his screen, they were quick to move out of his path. Your friend touched your arm, pulling your attention away from the approaching overlord. They winked at you and told you they had the drink issue handled.

When you turned, you caught Vox's screen flickering from pink to his usual blue. You had never seen any color other than the "You don't get to sleep" blue light, so you assumed it was just a trick of the flashing dance lights above.

"I didn't think you'd be here," you say to break the tension. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him in casual wear, nor was it the first time you'd seen Vox since realizing you had feelings for him. Even so, your heart was beating hard just from the sight of him.

"A-Ah yeah, well," Vox stammered as the music blared through the busy room. "Velvette wanted to drop by. She said something about wanting to check the place out as a potential venue for an upcoming show."

"Just the two of you?" you ask, perking up slightly.

"It was supposed to be," Vox chuckled dryly. His grin was tired and forced as he looked to the side and scanned the room. "Valentino heard we were coming here and tagged along. I don't know why, but Velvette got really heated about it. Something about him fucking up her plans..."

"Oh," your shoulders drop. You cringe internally, wishing you could take back the bitterness in your voice. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, but the way Vox was looking at you like you were some sort of a puzzle told you everything you needed to know.

You actually loved Velevette. She was sassy and cutthroat but had a kind side to her as well. Valentino however... He'd been the source of a lot of suffering for the people you cared about. While the more obvious examples of Angel Dust returning to the hotel looking like shit came to mind, so did the times you had to comfort Vox after being yanked this way and that by the moth emotionally.

That was actually how you'd realized you'd come to care for him as deeply as you do. He'd been standing alone in one of the meeting rooms with a distant look on his face. When you found him and asked him if he was okay, he tried to play it off with his usual bravado, but couldn't. He never cried in front of you, he only vented his frustrations about Valentino and you listened. You sympathized. And eventually, you found yourself wishing you could be the one to treat him better.

Vox opened his mouth to say something, only for Valentino to slip his arm around his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere from the crowd.

"There you are baby," he purred, his fingers immediately slipping under the collar of Vox's vest. You resisted the urge to gag as Valentino took a long puff from his pipe and blew the majority of the smoke in your direction.

"I was wondering where you up and fucked off to," Valentino grinned as he leaned down to nip drunkenly at Vox's shoulder. "You left me all alone with our little fashionista, "Valentino scoffed. "She's in such a bitchy mood."

If it wasn't bad enough that Valentino was practically drooling all over Vox in front of you and pretending you weren't there, insult was only added to injury when Valentino grinned at you with sharp teeth when he called Velvette bitchy.

"Come back and unwind with me," Valentino hummed as he started to kiss up Vox's neck. "Some of my best toys are here tonight. Don't you want to play?"

If Vox had any doubt he was in Hell before, he had every reason to confirm the fact at this moment. He'd fallen out of love with Valentino, but the almost... the almost killed him. To make it worse, he was completely frozen, letting it all happen in front of you. He made no moves to stop Valentino, he made no moves to reciprocate. He simply froze.

Unable to watch any longer as Vox continued to fall for the very same game of tug-o-war he told you he was done with, you bite your lip and turn on your heel. You can't tell if you heard Vox say your name or if it was just a trick of the crowd.

"Anyone else gonna drink this?" You asked as you rejoined your friends still at the table and pointed to one of the more full glasses left on the table. When your friends who were sober enough to answer said you could go for it, you tossed it back in one shot.

You griped to one of your friends who had stayed behind to watch over those too drunk to make good choices. The two of you had been having a damn good venting session about how stupid you felt your feelings were when the entire bar swayed. Your words slurred as your body grew heavy.

One second you were sitting up, wondering why your friend looked so concerned. The next second there was a sharp pain against the temple of your forehead, followed by a heavy thunk, more pain, and darkness.

---

Vox had been desperately searching the dance floor for any sign of you. He'd torn away from Valentino and the moth hadn't bothered to follow. Vox would... handle that another time. For as much as he denied his feelings for you this morning, the second he saw the hurt look in your eyes he knew he had to tell you. There was no way he could ignore the sharp lurch in his chest at the sight of you.

He didn't know what it meant. He couldn't tell if it was just a sense of betrayal after he'd been so open with you about Valentino or if it was something more. Every time he found himself wanting to talk about his true feelings on anything, he wanted to talk to you. Every time he had a rare second alone in the middle of the night, the only touch he craved was yours. Yes, he had a history with Valentino, but he didn't actively want that. He wanted you.

He finally spotted you across the room, sitting at a table with one of the whores he'd seen at Valentino's studio and getting way too close to them for his liking. He made his way through the drunken idiots who were too far gone to notice him, keeping his eyes on you as you started swaying dangerously.

You tried to reach down for something on the table and Vox swore as you lost what little balance you had and fell over. Someone got in his way so he didn't see the impact, but somehow he heard it. Through all the noise he heard the sharp thud and the panicked swearing of the person you were with after.

Vox was suddenly shoving every idiot out of his way, ignoring their shouts as he ran into the small clearing and found you on the ground with blood seeping from your head. He was immediately on his knees, scooping you up as the sinner who'd been with you started freaking out.

The only thing Vox could hear was a high-pitched whine as he pulled you to him and tried to frantically find where you were bleeding from. Half of your head was dripping with blood and he vaguely registered your friend saying your head had hit the edge of the table.

"Just s̴̢̃ḧ̸̺u̸͇͋t̷̯͂ ̷̬̂u̶͖̓p̵̳͗!̶̳͌," Vox snapped as he whipped up and affixed the sinner with a violent glare. He didn't care that half the club was looking at him. For once, he didn't care that he'd made a scene. Logically, he knew something like this couldn't kill you, you were all already dead. But his hands were shaking violently and the buzzing in his head was getting louder because you weren't moving.

Everything around him flashed with bright blue light as he held you close and teleported out of the club without even thinking about it. The two of you reappeared in his room back at the tower and he let out a shaky breath as he placed you down on his bed.

Not knowing what to do, Vox quickly crossed the room and threw his bathroom door open as he searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He was muttering furiously as he nearly ripped the hinges off the cupboard under the sink looking for anything he could use.

Vox let out a loud, angry shout as his body kept glitching. His movements were jerky and he'd hit his head on the sink twice now. Just as he was about to have an absolute meltdown, he heard you groan from his bedroom. His head snapped up and he turned around at the sound of your voice so fast he was surprised he didn't snap his own neck.

Vox yanked a towel off of the wall and scrambled across the nylon tiles as he fell into his room with all the grace of a CEO that he clearly had. He swore, picking himself up and coming over to you as you sat up and clutched your head.

"Shit, that stuff was stronger than I thought," you groaned. "Note to self, don't just chug random alcohol at the club." you tried to laugh, only to hiss as the pain in your head doubled down due to the movement.

"You're a fucking idiot," Vox sighed as he sat down next to you and lifted the towel to your head.

You flinched at the contact, and Vox grabbed your wrist with his free hand. "Stay still," he frowned, pressing again on the wound. "You're still bleeding."

Trying not to do more damage, you stay as still as possible while he tries to stop the bleeding. The silence is heavy between the two of you before you mumble quietly.

"Sorry..."

Vox blinks, frowning down at you. "For what?"

You avoid eye contact the best you can given your current condition and fist your hands on your thighs nervously. "For acting like an idiot. You've told me about how hard it is with Valentino. I should've said or done something and not have gotten..."

"Upset?" Vox finished for you quietly. You flinched, unable to read the tone in his voice. He sighed and slowly lifted the towel from your head, before lowering it. "Why did you?"

"It's stupid," you bite your lip, hand drifting up curiously to see how bad the wound is. Before your fingers could brush against your hair, Vox's hand grabbed your wrists again.

"Try me."

You couldn't say if it was due to the pain, blood loss, or alcohol in your system, but the moment you finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, you said fuck it. Vox gasped as you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. He'd barely had a chance to process the feeling before you were already turned away from him and rambling some bullshit about how you knew he didn't feel the same.

He took your hand, ignoring the anxious nonsense flowing from your mouth, and lifted it to his lips. Your speech died on your tongue as his lips pressed against the palm of your hand.

"Do you have any idea how much you've been on my mind?" He growled softly, his lips trailing up your arm slowly as he practically worshiped your skin.

If it wasn't for the fact that your blood was still on his hands, Vox would have been so much more rough with you. He would have grabbed you and crashed his lips against yours. He would have torn the fabric that hugged your curves so tightly off of your body and shown you just how badly he'd been needing you.

Instead, he made do with tracing his claw under your chin and guiding you to face him properly. His eyes searched yours for any doubt or sign that you'd acted purely on adrenaline and not something more. When your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed, he knew. As he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, as his arms snaked down and pulled you flush against him like you'd break, as your fingers found a home in his vest he knew.

You wanted him too. You fell for him too. This wasn't a game of "do they, don't they" like the one he'd played with Valentino for so fucking long.

His breath hitched, his arms tightening around you before he slowly pulled back and laughed breathlessly.

"Does this mean we're dating?" you ask, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"God that sounds cheesy," Vox grimaced. The phrase felt so... high school bullshit. But it wasn't wrong. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He reached down, hesitating before his clawed hand gently covered yours. "But yeah... I guess it does," he smiled softer than you'd ever seen before.

[sugojosgf]

let me feel your lips all on my skin !

﹒yaga ﹕☆ ﹟ gn · prns ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ mbti ! blōwjōbs , teeny tiny hint of implīed cheating , being walked ōn! ﹐

yaga is stressed, gojo's an ass, his wife's leaving. you have to help him feel better yeah ?

"i can't stand that goddamn prick." you hear yaga slam the door as he walks in. you turn to look at him and the poor man looks exhausted.

his glasses hang low on his nose, eyes tired. his white button up crinkled and almost see through with his sweat. his spiky hair stands upright like the stress had created a field of static energy around his head.

"gojo again ?"

he drops the felt in his hand, a cat halfway made on the leather couch. his office was sparsely decorated, with the exception of you of course. you would spend all your time in there, acting as the sweetest assistant he could ever ask for.

"third time this week, he's twenty nine and yet he bails on our meetings like he's a student skipping class." he throws himself on to the couch, tired back supported with the sturdy leather. he manspreads, letting the tension in his legs fall.

you know what to do when he gets like this. stressed and high strung, desperate with a need for release.

you dim the lights first. the harsh yellows do no good for anyone. he watches you from the corner of his eyes. then, you put down the picture of him with his wife.

his lips flash a crooked smile. still so respectful.

you walk over to him and cover his eyes with a wet wash cloth, soothing the strain in his eyes. you worry about him often. he was a little too old to be taking such less care of himself.

you make yourself comfortable between his spread legs. waiting for his confirmation to begin.

"i was teaching the second years, im sweaty." he groused. "you don't have to."

you press your thighs together, you were so down bad for him. lips salivating at the mere thought of his unfiltered scent.

you don't reply with words. you press your face against the growing bulge in his pants. you nuzzle into the warmth and take in mouthfuls of his musky fragrance.

"you are so fucking nasty, goddamn." he places a veiny hand on your head, guiding you to his zipper.

you were well trained in the art of using no hands. teeth biting the zip, you drag it down. when his boxers come into view, you are quick to remove it.

his cock springs out, heavy and girthy as it caresses your cheek. his pre, enough to dirty your face almost instantly. sitting on the balls of your feet, you take him into your mouth.

he hisses at the warmth that envelops the length of his dick. his face contorts in pleasure even before you begin to suck him off.

you start off slow, tongue working the underside of his cock. you make sure to keep your teeth away as you work yourself deeper. he groans as you get closer to his abs, nose pressed against the trail of hair.

your mouth burns with the stretch. he was so girthy, your hands barely covering 3/4th of the circumference.

you pull off with a pop, growing cross eyed with his standing cock. it was just like him too, veiny and tall, tan with an angry purple at the tip.

you decide that's it's about time that you pay special attention to his balls. you drag your lips down to them and begin with kitten licks. for a man so big and powerful, he sure was sensitive.

"f-fuck...s-slowly!" he groans as you take one in your mouth, tongue swirling around. you continue with your ministrations as you suckle on him. you repeat the same on the other one until he's a twitching teary eyed mess.

the cloth on his eyes slips down and his eyes immediately zero on you. you look perfect for him like that, hands tucked under your knees.

you start kissing his tip, eyes fluttering coquettishly. you finally bring your hand up just so you can guide his own hand to your head.

he relishes in the control you give him, as he fucks your mouth. the only sounds in the room were his heavy breathing and the wet gurgle of your mouth.

"i'm close,... you are so good to me,,," he grits out. you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, trying to match the rhythm he set. he tries to pull you off before he cums but you strongly refuse, your eyes filled with defiance.

he gives up and shoots a warm load down your throat, you pull off his cock as streaks of his cum paint your face.

you look at him doe eyed, as you clean yourself up. you open your mouth to show him how good you had been, making sure to swallow everything.

"feel better?" you ask throat thoroughly fucked, your voice coming out scratchy.

before he can reply, the office door is thrown open.

"sorry for being late i guess i don't really—," the white haired sorcerer stops analysing the scene in front of him. his eyes widen in absolute horror, a sight that had never graced the strongest's features, "is this god's way of punishing me ??!?!?"

[heavenlyvision]

When hell freezes over

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!Reader

A/N: I make no apologies for what I’ve written, I do however, apologise for this coming out before part four of the Crushing series. I saw God (Bi-Han in mk 1) and got possessed by the Holy Spirit (horniness). I’ve noticed tumblr is lacking in fics for my mk cravings, which resulted in this. This fic was initially going to be 1k of only smut, but I got carried away and added a minor plot line :3

Summary: Bi-Han keeps staring at you and you don’t know why but it really starts to get on your nerves, especially when he won’t even admit that he is doing it.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, creampie, voyeurism (they fuck outside but they don’t get caught), strong language, pure filth, minor plot, mean Bi-Han, Bi-Han is ooc prolly but he’s also a bitch still, so not completely ooc

Staying at the fire temple means you’ve seen Bi-Han around, always with a scowl on his face and that’s if he’s taken his mask off, but you can always tell he’s scowling under the mask too, with the way his eyebrows pinch. You’ve never actually held a conversation with him, he’s a bit unapproachable and when you do speak, he usually grunts in response. His way of acknowledging you without actually acknowledging you.

Lord Liu Kang has been bringing all of Earth Realms potential heroes together and training them at the Fire Temple, you just so happened to be one of the first heroes he came looking for. You have power, you’re not disillusioned though, you can see in the way Lord Liu Kang moves and speaks, that he already knows who his hero is and it’s not you, which you’re fine with. The idea of fighting against Outworld’s warriors is, to be blunt, scary. You mean to say, that the idea of fighting Sub-zero frightens you, you cannot imagine what kind of formidable opponents live in the other realms.

The other’s Liu Kang has managed to gather are all very kind but also intimidating, you’re surrounded by powerful men all day and that sets you on edge a bit, as a result you tend to be spending more time by yourself in the quieter areas of the temple. They’re not hard to find if you look for them, and the temple has a sense of tranquillity. Ever since you’ve been here, you find yourself meditating now, more than you ever have in your whole life.

On this particular day, you’re sitting on a large rock away from the temple facing all the greenery surrounding the area. Footsteps approaching you bring your awareness back to your environment, but you don’t move or open your eyes, you aren’t really in the mood to be disturbed at this current moment, for all they know, you could be really close to reaching enlightenment.

The person moves to stand in front of you but doesn’t say anything, you try to hold steady and focus but their breathing is disturbing you. In the end your resolve gives in and your shoulders slump as you look up at the perpetrator of disturbance.

You feel a bit silly as you realise that the disturbance is Lord Liu Kang himself, “I could’ve been close to enlightenment only to be disturbed by you at the last moment.”

He looks amused but only slightly, “If you had been that close to enlightenment, I doubt my presence would’ve disturbed you.”

“You can’t know that,” you pout a touch.

He gives you a polite smile in return, “Dinner is going to be served soon, will you grace us with your presence?”

He’s giving you a light ribbing; you’ve been here a while and like to think you’ve gained rapport with him. The way he will indulge you slightly makes you think you’ve succeeded in landing on his good side, though you’re not certain he has a bad side, and if he does, you don’t want to be anywhere near it.

“I hadn’t realised it had gotten this late,” looking up at the sky you can see the sun setting, you’ve been out here far longer than you had expected.

Suddenly, you feel eyes on the back of your head and a shiver runs down your spine in response, without turning around you acknowledge the secondary presence you didn’t initially register.

“Good evening to you too, Sub-zero.”

“Mmmf,” he grunts in your direction as a response.

You address Lord Liu Kang, “he seems gruntier than usual.”

“Perhaps, he is the one who disturbed your enlightenment,” he dips his head towards you as he says this, in an attempt to keep the joke between the two of you.

You chuckle in response before leaping down from the rock, “Alright, let’s eat!”

❆˖°

Dinner with everyone is always a touch rowdy, it never used to be, it used to be quieter but with the additions of Kung Lao, Raiden, Kenshi and especially Johnny Cage, it has gotten livelier around the temple. You find that Kuai Liang, Tomas and Bi-Han frequent dinners here now too, you suspect that them never actually leaving anymore is due to the fact that Lord Liu Kang has gathered all his potential warriors.

Everyone has bets on who they think it is and most of them are betting on themselves but you’re certain Lord Liu Kang has his pick and you’re betting it’s Raiden, the way he looks and considers him makes you think he’s his top pick.

You feel his eyes on you again from across the table, the shiver he sends through you running down your spine again. You aren’t sure why your body reacts to him like that, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it either. Preferably, he would stop staring at you so your body would stop reacting, but he is such a starer, and an angry starer too.

Looking up you lock eyes with Bi-Han, but he doesn’t look away, typical, you think, you look away instead and attempt to stay engaged in the conversations happening around you. But you know he is still staring at you and to be honest, it’s starting to get on your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you look back over at him again and he is still staring at you, you’re getting pissed now, what is his problem. He can be scary but scary is only scary until you’re annoyed.

“What is your problem?” You direct at him quietly; you don’t want everyone at the table seeing you starting a fight with the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.

He looks a little taken aback by your bluntness but only for a second, “nothing.” He shrugs.

His voice is stupid and deep, and you’re annoyed at him because why is he still fucking staring at you. People normally have enough humility to look away when confronted but he looks nonplussed by your angry confrontation.

“Well, then stop staring at me,” you shoot back, trying to remain unnoticed by the rest of the table.

“I am not staring,” he replies coolly.

What the fuck? “You definitely are though; I can feel your eyes stabbing me.”

He purses his lips in response, “My eyes are not capable of stabbing you.”

You’re frowning now, deeply, “Well… they are!” Your voice raises a bit with your increasing annoyance. Why won’t he just admit that his eyes are stabbing you.

Unfortunately, everyone has caught onto your little argument now, which prompts Lord Liu Kang to interject.

“Is everything okay?” He directs the question at you.

“Tell your guard dog to stop stabbing me with his stupid eyes,” you reply, completely exasperated with how dumb all of this is.

From the other end of the table, you hear Johnny start laughing, thud, and that was Kenshi kicking him under the table in response, attempting to get him to stop.

Johnny exclaims, “Ouch, what the fu–”

“– I am not his guard dog!” Bi-Han is angry now, he was mildly amused before, you suspect you’ve managed to hit a nerve. “I am the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re the Grandmaster of stabbing me with your eyes!” You’re not quite sure why you’ve picked this hill to die on, but you’re committed now.

He looks pissed and you feel like you should be intimidated but you’re so irked by his behaviour that you wouldn’t care if he was God itself.

Lord Liu Kang clears his throat from the head of the table, “Maybe you should both apologise to each other and move past this.”

“No.” Both Bi-Han and you reply at the same time.

“Just admit you were staring, and I will apologise to you,” you direct this at Bi-Han.

“I wasn’t staring,” he leans back with his big stupid, defined, arms crossed over his chest.

You feel like you’re going to have an aneurysm, why is he committed to lying about this. “I know you were staring.”

“How would you know that?” He asks.

Is he being intentionally dense, “how could I not know?” You’re glaring back at him.

Lord Liu Kang clasps his hands together, a loud clap sound ringing out across the silence that had fallen over the group. Well, it was almost silent, Johnny is still muffling his laughing down the other end of the table.

“Thank you for dinner, Lord Liu Kang, I’ll be returning to my quarters early tonight.” You stand up and walk out of the room.

You miss the completely confused and exhausted look Kuai Liang gives his older brother.

❆˖°

Tonight, you find yourself tossing and turning, the evenings usually leave you a bit restless and you will fairly regularly leave your quarters to wander the grounds. Though, this evening you are restless for a separate reason, the result is the same, you’re leaving your quarters and wandering the Fire Temple aimlessly, inspecting things you’ve seen daily for months now.

You have got to be kidding, you think to yourself as you feel the all too familiar shiver run down your spine and set of eyes on the back of your head.

Your head drops in defeat and a deep sigh is pulled from your chest, “if I tell you to stop staring, would you? Or would you say you weren’t staring?”

You can feel him come up beside you, “Guess…”

“…I wasn’t staring,” you both say it in tandem, but you attempt to drop your voice as low as it can go to mock him.

He grunts in disapproval at you.

You aren’t sure why he’s come up to you, you’ve sequestered yourself off to a private area of the temple specifically so you could remain undisturbed, but not only did he find you, he fucking stabbed you with his stupid pretty, stupid angry eyes again. You feel like you’re not going to win whatever this battle is against him.

“Genuinely, why do you keep staring at me, and you can’t say you don’t because I know you do, I can feel when your eyes are on me,” you’re getting tired of this now, you just want an answer from him.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment; he’s probably considering how to word what he’s going to say next. All you know is if he says he doesn’t stare at you, you’re literally going to hit him in the face.

“Consider your words carefully, I am tempted to punch you right now,” you relay your feelings to him as a warning.

“I don’t stare–”

That does it, you swing around at him and go to throw a forceful punch aimed square at his nose, you’re aiming to break it. Unfortunately, for all his ego, he is indisputably more skilled than you and easily dodges your punch by moving his head to the side before he catches your forearm with one of his hands. His other hand reaches out to grab at your other arm and pulls you closer to his body, both your arms being held between your bodies. His strength keeping you in place, with his stupid well-defined arms.  

You’re a little annoyed at yourself for bothering to warn him at all, you probably could’ve at least grazed him if you hadn’t.

Scowling at him you say, “I shouldn’t have given you a warning.”

“Your hit wouldn’t have landed either way, it was sloppy.”

“It was not!” Your punch was fine, he’s just being rude.

“I was trying to say I don’t stare at you,” you try to wiggle free of his grip, you swear he’s looking for a fight. His hands grab you tighter and pulls your forearms to rest on his chest, you’re forced to look up at him, “Stop, struggling, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You gawk at him, “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who won’t admit the simple fact that you’ve been staring at me!”

He looks exhausted with you as he rolls his eyes, when did this switch? He is the unreasonable one, you were willing to apologise hours ago!

“I gaze at you.” He says it like he doesn’t have to explain further.

“I’m almost certain that is the exact same thing as staring at me.” You’re confused.

He grunts and turns his head to the side sharply, “You make everything difficult.”

“ME?” You. Are. Confused.

His head snaps back to stare you in the eyes, “YES! I look at you, I gaze at you, I find you interesting and that makes me mad. This is your fault, take responsibility.”

Oh. My. God. Does he have a crush on you? He likes you and is mad at you about it. Talk about emotionally stunted.

“I am not responsible for how you feel about me.”

“You should be.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, he’s still holding you close.

“You undo me.” He says it quiet, like he’s ashamed of the confession but it’s the highest form of flattery you have ever received.

Your eyes are round in shock as you look at him, you won’t lie, you find yourself drawn to him. Not in spite of his intimidating, stoic nature but because of it, he’s a force of nature to be reckoned with and you think without even realising you walked headfirst into the eye of his storm. You want him and you hate that you do, but you suspect he feels the same way.

“Let me go, please.” You ask him.

He obeys your will, immediately dropping your arms but neither of you make a move to step away from the other. Your heart is racing in your chest as you continue to look up at him, you want to kiss him, but you don’t know how he’ll react to your hands reaching for him after you just tried to deck him.

You don’t have to wonder for long, his hands reach for your face, both of them landing on either side of it. He has such large hands.

“I want to kiss you and you’re going to have to tell me not to, if you don’t want me to.”

You say nothing because you really want him to kiss you and he does; he leans down towards you and when your lips meet you feel like your knees might give out.

His kiss is gentler than you would’ve expected him capable of, he holds you like you’ll break, like he’s all too aware of his strength and is making a conscious effort to not hurt you. One of his hands moves from your face, down your body and grabs at your hip, the other moving behind your neck. Your own hands move to grab at the material on his chest, holding on.

He pulls away from you, only enough to talk, his lips still brushing against yours as he speaks “Fuck, open your mouth more.”

His words shoot straight through your body, you feel like you’re shaking. You do as your told and he moves your head with the hand on the back your neck slightly. When he moves to kiss you again it’s at an angle; his mouth slotting against yours, the kiss deepening. You’re feeling lightheaded as he starts to kiss you with urgency, less gentle. His tongue licking into your mouth has a whimper leaving you against your will. He smirks against your mouth at the sound and pulls away from you.

No one has ever kissed you like that in your life, he’s so much more skilled with his mouth than you would’ve thought. You blink tears away from your eyes as you both stand close together his lips brushing against yours, teasing you.

“Kiss me again, please.”

“mmm, you’re so much more agreeable like this.” He’s smug, you don’t like that his words make your pussy throb.

Opening your mouth, you go to put up a fight, but he puts his mouth back on yours causing you to whine in response. His hands grab you tighter at the sound, and he begins walking you backwards until your back rests against the building you were standing behind.

His other hand moves from behind your neck and down your body, stopping at your tit and pawing at it. You let out a gasp at the feeling, your hands move from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hand leaves your breast and travels the length of your body, landing on your thigh, he pulls your leg up to rest on his hip.

He won’t move any closer, and you think he’s trying to be polite and not push you further than you want, but you want him so badly. Whining against him you use your leg to pull his hips into yours and he grunts against you.

Parting your lips again he looks at you, he seems pleased with the look on your face, “You look so pretty, eyes all glazed over from a kiss.”

The words are mocking but your reactions to him seem to inflate his ego, not that he needs the boost.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” you find yourself admitting to him.

A faux pity look falls across his features, “Poor, sweet, girl, never been kissed properly.” He noses at the side of your face before his lips rest against your ear. He blows cool air against it and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine.

“mmf, not fair, you’re teasing me.” He’s mean but its turning you on to no end.

“Yeah, but I think you like it,” he pulls back to look you in the eyes again, “isn’t that right?”

A blush breaks out across your skin in response to him, you can tell it’s not a rhetorical question, but you don’t answer him.

Your lack of a response displeases him, his voice comes a little firmer, “I want an answer when I ask a question.”

“Yes, I like it.” Being forced to admit that you like how mean he is to you is embarrassing.

“I know you do.” He’s smug again, not that he ever stopped.

His lips are so close to yours, you lean forward slightly to kiss him, but he pulls away at the last second. Your head drops back against the wall, and he chuckles at you. Leaning forward again, he kisses your neck, before lightly sucking marks into it.

He mouths at the length of your neck, savouring the way you twitch and try to contain the noises you make in response. The hand holding your hip moves under your robe to cup your pussy through your panties, a whine louder than you would’ve liked is pulled from you, your blush deepening at the sound.

He talks into your neck as his fingers trace the seam of your cunt through your underwear, “You’re so sensitive, react to the smallest of my touches.”

His fingers continue to touch you through your panties, two of his fingers moving to part your lips through them. An embarrassingly wet squelching sound results from his actions. A strangled noise comes from deep in his chest and he moves his head back and looks up for a second, “Fuckin – you are so fucken, wet and I’ve not even touched you properly.” He’s looking you back in your eyes, his gaze dark, he looks like he’s being eaten alive, or wants to eat you alive.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, he talks so much, in fact, you think this is the most he’s spoken to you without you having to reply.

“Bi-Han, please –”

“Mmm say my name again.” He’s lightly grazing the seam of your pussy, never touching your clit.

“Bi-Han,” you repeat his name for him.

His voice sounds strained, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

The nickname he’s graced you with makes your heart skip, “please, touch me… properly.”

“Since you asked so sweetly.” His hand leaves you temporarily to slip down the front of your underwear, his fingers slide through your cunt, and he can feel just how wet you are now. “Jesus – ” He curses at the feel of you.

His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss again as his middle finger slowly enters you, you clench around it and you both moan into the kiss. His thumb slowly rubs circles on your clit, you jump at the contact, sensitive from neglect and desire. You’re trying to hold back whines and moans, still aware that you’re out in the open. Bi-Han doesn’t seem to care and if he does, he isn’t letting on.

He pulls back from your mouth, “God, you’re fucken – how am I gonna – fuck, look at you.”

You’re trying to grind down on his hand, desperate for more, anything he’ll give you; you’ll take; you just need more.

Gasping you say, “more Bi-Han, please.”

“Always asking so sweetly,” He slips his ring finger inside you, filling you up more. One of your hands moves from behind his neck to cover your mouth, attempting to muffle the moans trying to come out.

Both of his hands are occupied, one on your thigh holding your leg to his hip and the other stuffing your dripping wet cunt full, the sounds coming from you are making him feral and he wants your hand off your mouth. Now.

“Remove your hand, now.” He shoots you a fierce glare and you comply straight away, hand removing from your mouth and grabbing onto the arm of the hand inside you. His fingers move quicker inside you, reaching deep, hitting something that’s never been touched, your head falls back, and a whine comes from deep in your chest.

“Fuuuck, thas it, thas what I was looking for,” Bi-Han seems overjoyed at your reaction, your eyes wet and glassy from pleasure.

You aren’t sure if your hand is trying to push him away or pull him closer, your breaths are coming faster and another moan is pulled from you as he speeds up his thumb on your clit.

“fff – Bi-Han, I can’t, is too much.” It feels too good, it’s never felt like this before.

“Shuddup, you’re fine,” He leans forward so his mouth is by your ear again, “You’ve been doing so well, baby, come for me and then I’ll stuff you full of my dick, mmm?”

“ah ah, it’s different, too much – ngh –”

“Poor baby, never been finger fucked this good, mmm?” He doesn’t slow down; it feels like he speeds up.

Your moans hit a higher pitch and you feel like you’re falling apart into the palm of his hand, “thas it, doing so good,” he keeps whispering praise into your ear and then he blows cool air against your ear again. The shiver that runs through your body has your eyes crossing as you cum all over his fingers and palm with a shout of his name. He moans at the feel of your cunt spasming around his fingers.

“Thas fucken it, good girl, shit –” His fingers continue pumping into you until you start flinching away from him.

He removes his fingers from your pulsing pussy, and sucks both of them clean before shoving them in your mouth. You suck his spit and your cum from his fingers, his eyes glazing over as he watches you suck on his fingers.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth slowly and traces them down your chin, neck and chest, leaving behind a wet trail as he goes.

“Can we have sex now, please?” You ask him, you feel insatiable, he makes you insatiable.

He looks like he might melt into a puddle on the floor at your words, “yes, fuckin hell, you have beautiful manners, sweet thing.”

He pulls his pants down enough for his dick to be released from its confines, and, he was right before, how is he going to fit. “Bi-Han, you might be too big.”

“Jesu – you really know how to inflate a mans ego,” you aren’t meaning to, you are genuinely concerned he might not completely fit, “we’re gonna fucken make it fit, you okay with that?” he asks you.

You nod your head instantly, you can take it, you want to take it.

“Fucken, eager,” He states, if anyone else had said it you’d feel offended, but you know he means it as a compliment.

He spits on his hand and grabs his dick, lubing it up to make the glide easier. The display is filthy and has you wanting to get on your knees for him.

“You ready?” he asks you, and every time he checks on you it has you going dizzy.

“I’m ready,” you smile up at him, as he moves your panties to the side.

“Fuck, alright, try and relax.” He guides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing the head of it against your clit.

Slowly, he begins to push the head of his dick into your pussy hole, it’s already a tight fit. You reach out and place your palm on his shoulder, indicating to him to hold still for a minute. He stops moving forward with just his tip in you, a pinched look on his face, like he’s in pain.

“Goddamn, you’ve got such a – ngh, tight little cunt,” he sputters out, he’s doing deep breathing exercises as he waits for your okay to keep going, “mmph, trying not to cum like a fucken teenager, you’ve got a – ngh – beautiful pussy.”

You involuntarily clench around him at his words, and he grunts in response, “please, keep going, Bi-Han.”

He nods his head and continues to slowly inch into you, pausing every now and again to give you time to adjust to him. When he’s finally fully seated inside you, he lets out a deep guttural groan, you can feel his chest rumble with it. He’s so fucking big and you feel so full of him.

“Got the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in, Jesus – ngh – such a perfect – ” your cunt flutters around him at his words, “mph, you fucken like that don’t you?”

You don’t fully register that he’s asked you a question because he’s started fucking you now, and it nearly has you going cross eyed.

“Hey! I fucken – mph – asked you a question,” you make eye contact with him, eyes glazed as you look at him, “ffffucken beautiful, you look perfect, just, like, this, split open on my – ngh – cock.” He’s barely keeping it together as he starts fucking up into you.

“I said, you fucken like it when I talk to you, mmh?” He asks you again and you understand him this time.

Nodding your head you reply, “Yes I – ah – I love it when you talk to me.” You’re practically a whimpering mess at this point, “Can you go faster, plea- ah –”

Your question is cut off by his immediate acceleration in thrusts, he wanted to fuck you faster as much as you wanted him too, maybe more. Looking at the pinched look on his face you can guess he’s still holding himself back, still too aware of his own strength.

“Hah – harder, please, Bi-Han.” You can feel his dick twitch at the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“Fffff, like it rough, do you, sweet girl?” He huffs.

You agree, you think you’d agree to anything he asked of you right now.

“You are so sweet, compliant when you’re filled with my dick” he chuckles at you, but his words have your pussy clenching around him, breaking his laugh into a broken moan.

You’re gonna come, “Bi-Han, mm gonna come, please.”

“go on then, fucken – nghf – good girl, sweeeet fucken cunt. Cover my dick in your cum, go on.” Your eyes prickle with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused in your whole life.

He’s staring down at where you’re connected, obsessed with way your cunt is creaming on his cock, forming a ring around the base of his dick, has him almost feral.

“Fuck, fuck, Bi-Han, I’m – mmph – ” He cuts off your words with a deep kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. Bi-Han’s thumb reaches for your clit and starts rubbing harsh and fast circles into it, his precise movements and unrelenting thrusts has you coming on his dick, hard. You throw your head back, removing your lips from his, your vision cuts off dark and you can barely hear anything with the force of which you cum.

Your mouth opening in a silent scream and then a series of whimpers spill from your lips. When you can speak, you’re praising Bi-Han, wet slapping sounds continuing, he’s not stopped thrusting chasing his own peak.

“you look fucken perfect when you cum, look – ngh – so fucked out, such a good girl – taking my cock, mph,” He’s close you can tell, his dick is twitching inside you, “the sounds you make are – sshit – mmph – angelic.”

He’s such a flatterer, your cunt jumps in after shock, you decide you wanna try something. You pull his head towards you, moving your lips to his ear to tell him, “made me feel so good, Grandmaster, never cum that hard in my – ngh – life.”

You were right, he liked that, loved being called Grandmaster, his grunts and groans get louder, tailing off into whimpers. His head drops to your shoulder, resting there for a bit.

“Where – hah – where do you want it?” He asks.

“Inside please, Grandmaster, I want it, in – mmph – me.”

He whimpers at your words, “Ahh – fuck you’re gonna fucking kill me, sweet girl – nngh.”

And then he’s coming, he fills you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him releasing all of his cum inside of you, he turns his head into your neck and bites you, the shock of it has your cunt clenching on his dick.

He’s making the most amazing noises, grunting and groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him. His own cum dripping down the sides of his cock, he’s staring at it now, watching the way he moves in and out of you, the way his cum leaks out of you, down your thighs, and down his cock.

You both stay connected for a bit afterwards, basking in your highs before parting. When Bi-Han does pull out, his fingers move to shove the cum leaking out of you back inside before shifting your panties back in place. He gently places your leg back down, before tucking himself back in his pants.

You stay resting your weight up against the wall, you’re not certain you can walk, your legs feel like they might cave in if you try to move.

“I like you,” Bi-Han says simply.

“I’d hope so,” you reply, smiling brightly at him. He looks soft for you. “I suppose, I like you too, even if you do stare at me.”

“I don’t stare.”

❆˖°

Part two

A/N: The end, I’m interested in making a second part for this if people want it, I’m also willing to write for almost every mk1 character. I disappeared because I inhaled the new game, long time mk whore over here. Requests are open if anyone wants to ask for someone specific. And if any of my Crushing series peoples read this, I am writing the fourth part, and it will definitely come out this month!

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

If you get pregnant from a ghoul, what would the kid be like? Human? Ghoul? Some weird freakish third thing? Even Gulpers are just mutated humans so anything is possible.

(I'll put a trigger warning here for "mild discussion of pregnancy loss/premature birth", in case that upsets anyone.)

My official answer to this is: "looks human, but closer to a freakish third thing when you get down to the details".

The pregnancy certainly wouldn't be a cakewalk. Frankly, I think you'd have to have a pretty preternatural resistance to radiation to successfully conceive with a ghoul to begin with (which we see is achievable for some people; otherwise I think there would just straight up be no successful fertilization/implantation). If you were able to make it happen, I think the fetus would be quite radioactive itself early on, and you'd struggle a lot. You might be able to get away with the occasional dose of Radaway if you're incredibly sick, like too sick to function, but too much of it and I think you'd be risking unfavorable outcomes. With luck (and maybe a higher-than-average endurance), things might taper off the further along you get. I imagine the birth would be unremarkable, all other regular health factors considered, unless you found yourself so ill from the baseline radiation that you were unable to continue carrying to full term and were forced to deliver prematurely. The odds of that certainly aren't zero. Your breast milk would make a Geiger counter go nuts.

It's hard to imagine the 50% genetic spawn of a ghoul wouldn't be significantly more radiation resistant, right? Like, at minimum? Personally, I think if you had a baby with a ghoul, that kid would be constantly drawn to play in puddles of nuclear fallout, to drink from dirty sources, to want to go outside during rad storms. Radiation is healing and refreshing for ghouls, so I would imagine at least some of that would transfer, no matter how much it makes you worry. You'd probably find the kid sucking on a power core if you turned your back for too long.

I, personally, would think that a kid like that would age normally, but since we know ghouls have that super-regenerative ability, maybe there's a chance that they'd shoot through the puberty phase really quickly? I mean, that "growing" phase in adolescence is basically just a bunch of cells dying off and being regenerated/high rates of cell generation to build muscle and bone mass. Again, I'd like to think they'd grow pretty typically, all things considered, but it's certainly something to think about.

That regenerative ability could certainly prove quite...tricky at times. We've seen how quickly it can heal wounds, which is great for something like a puncture or a stab wound...but what about a broken bone? I can't help but be reminded of an audio diary you can find in Bioshock 2 that talks about the Little Sisters' insane regenerative ability and its disadvantages. At one point, one of the girls escapes from the researchers studying them and throws herself over a balcony (trying to escape or end her life, though which is unclear), shattering both of her legs. But by the time they've made it to the bottom where she's lying, her legs have already healed at a bunch of fucked up and unnatural angles, so they have to break her legs over and over again until they can set them correctly. With as quickly as we see ghouls heal in the show (and in the games), it's hard to imagine you wouldn't run into the same issue, as horrific as it is.

Can you imagine your child having to go through that because they fell playing (or fleeing, god forbid) and broke their arm, or their collarbone or something? Can you imagine having to be the person doing the breaking? What if there's no one else to do it?

I'd also assume that, as they age into their teen years/early adulthood, their aging would slow, though I think exactly how much it would slow would depend on the individual child and their circumstances. I do think half-ghoul children would be able to be turned fully ghoul through some conventional means, just maybe over a longer period of time and with much higher doses of radiation.